The Complete Poetical Works. Томас Харди
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Название: The Complete Poetical Works

Автор: Томас Харди

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 9788027241361

isbn:

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      “Thou shalt be—Nothing.”—Omar Khayyám.

      “Tombless, with no remembrance.”—W. Shakespeare.

      Dead shalt thou lie; and nought

       Be told of thee or thought,

       For thou hast plucked not of the Muses’ tree:

       And even in Hades’ halls

       Amidst thy fellow-thralls

       No friendly shade thy shade shall company!

      Catullus: XXXI

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      (After passing Sirmione, April 1887.)

      Sirmio, thou dearest dear of strands

       That Neptune strokes in lake and sea,

       With what high joy from stranger lands

       Doth thy old friend set foot on thee!

       Yea, barely seems it true to me

       That no Bithynia holds me now,

       But calmly and assuringly

       Around me stretchest homely Thou.

      Is there a scene more sweet than when

       Our clinging cares are undercast,

       And, worn by alien moils and men,

       The long untrodden sill repassed,

       We press the pined for couch at last,

       And find a full repayment there?

       Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast,

       And art, mine own unrivalled Fair!

      After Schiller

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      Knight, a true sister-love

       This heart retains;

       Ask me no other love,

       That way lie pains!

      Calm must I view thee come,

       Calm see thee go;

       Tale-telling tears of thine

       I must not know!

      Song From Heine

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      I scanned her picture dreaming,

       Till each dear line and hue

       Was imaged, to my seeming,

       As if it lived anew.

      Her lips began to borrow

       Their former wondrous smile;

       Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,

       Grew sparkling as erstwhile.

      Such tears as often ran not

       Ran then, my love, for thee;

       And O, believe I cannot

       That thou are lost to me!

      From Victor Hugo

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      Child, were I king, I’d yield my royal rule,

       My chariot, sceptre, vassal-service due,

       My crown, my porphyry-basined waters cool,

       My fleets, whereto the sea is but a pool,

       For a glance from you!

      Love, were I God, the earth and its heaving airs,

       Angels, the demons abject under me,

       Vast chaos with its teeming womby lairs,

       Time, space, all would I give—aye, upper spheres,

       For a kiss from thee!

      Cardinal Bembo’s Epitaph on Raphael

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      Here’s one in whom Nature feared—faint at such vying—

       Eclipse while he lived, and decease at his dying.

      Retrospect

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      I

      I have lived with shades so long,

       And talked to them so oft,

       Since forth from cot and croft

       I went mankind among,

       That sometimes they

       In their dim style

       Will pause awhile

       To hear my say;

      II

      And take me by the hand,

       And lead me through their rooms

       In the To-be, where Dooms

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