SonnetWritten in Holy Week at GenoaI wandered in Scoglietto's green retreat, The oranges on each o'erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day;Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleetMade sno...

Ave Maria Gratia Plena* Was this His coming! I had hoped to see A scene of wondrous glory, as was told Of some great God who in a rain of gold Broke open bars and fell on Danae: Or a dread vision as when Semele Sickeni...

Easter DayThe silver trumpets rang across the Dome: The people knelt upon the ground with awe: And borne upon the necks of men I saw,Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,...

Sonnet on Hearing the Dies Irае Sung in the Sistine ChapelNay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy life and loveThan terrors of red flame and thunde...

ЗвездаЗвезда! Как я хотел бы вечным быть,Сиять, как ты, сверкающим нарядом,Но не отшельником немым светить,Взирая с высоты бессонным взглядомНа торопливый ток священных вод,В разливы освежающих долины,На легкий снежный плед...

SonnetLift not the painted veil which those who liveCall Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,And it but mimic all we would believeWith colours idly spread, - behind, lurk FearAnd Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weaveThe...

Sonnet XXIXThe MoonstarLady, I thank thee for thy loveliness, Because my lady is more lovely still. Glorying I gaze, and yield with glad goodwillTo thee thy tribute; by whose sweet-spun dressOf delicate life Love labours...

Silent NoonYour hands lie open in the long fresh grass, - The finger-points look through like rosy blooms: Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.All round our nest, far...

DеsespoirСвои права диктует нам природа:Весной нарцисс приобретает цвет,А летом роза прославляет свет,Фиалке ж льстит осенняя погода.Шафран зимою тянет к небосводу,Но все ж земле к лицу зеленый плед.С дождем весенним встане...

44CARDINAL WOLSEY TO HIS HOUND. 1530 г.Approach, my hound; approach and lick my hand; Thou art not human, and thou wilt not bite; And still thou fawnest on me in despite Of frowning courtiers and a king's command.O houn...