On the Grasshopper and CricketThe poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will runFrom hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;That is the Grasshopper's - he...

On the SeaIt keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns; till the spellOf Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.Often 'tis in such gentle temper found Th...

On Seeing the Elgin MarblesMy spirit is too weak - mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steepOf godlike hardship tells me I must dieLike a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'ti...

Написано после прочтения ГомераВ переводе ЧампменаЯ много странствовал. Я видел мир.Объездил много стран, и побывалНа дальних островах, где правит балСам Аполлон, поэтов всех кумир.И лишь в одном всегда себя корил,Что с...

37.Vasco de Gama to the Spirit of Tempests (1504) All round about us was a liquid hell; In monstrous chains the livid summits ran Beneath thy breath to crush us; and where man Had never sailed, roared round our tortured...

48Luther to a Blue-Bottle Fly (1540) Ay, buzz and buzz away. Dost thou suppose I know not who thou art, who all to-day Hast vexed and plagued me, as I write and pray, And dared to settle on my very nose? Thou th...

52.Lady Jane Grey to the Flowers and Birds (1553) To-morrow death: and there are woods hard by, With restless spots of sunshine on the ground, With bees that hum and birds that pipe all round, And beds of moss where spa...

To the Nile Son of the old moon-mountains African! Chief of the pyramid and crocodile! We call thee fruitful, and, that very while, A desert fills our seeing's inward span; Nurse of swart nations since the world began,...

148О me! what eyes hath love put in my head,Which have no correspondence with true sight?Or, if they have, where is my judgement fled,That censures falsely what they see aright?If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,...

149Ужель ты скажешь мне, что не люблю,Когда в войне с собой, с тобою рядом?Тебе, неблагодарной, мысли шлюЗабыв себя… не требуя награды.Друзьями я ль зову своих врагов,И льщу тому, кого не одобряешь?Да я себя наказывать...