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В борьбе за власть есть первые; есть вторые; и есть 6ыдло (из канала BS "Без Слёз").
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With lazuled ore:
When new-born earth was fain to lean
In Summer's arms, recovering
The unaccustomed toil of Spring,
Why slept not Eve, their Queen?
III
Upon a smooth fern-mantled stone
She sat, and watched the wicket-gate,
Not timid in her woman's throne,
Nor lonely in her sinless state,
Though all alone;
For having spread her simple board
With grapes, and peaches, milk, and flowers,
She strewed sweet mastic o'er the sward,
And waited through the bridal hours
Step of her lord.
Such innocence around her breathed,
And freshness of young nature's play,
The sensitive plant shrank not away,
And cactus' swords were sheathed.
IV
The vision of her beauty fell,
Like music on a moonlit place,
Or trembles of a silver bell,
Or memories of a sacred face,
Too dear to tell:
The grace that wandered free of laws,
The look that lit the heart's confession,
Had never dreamed how fair it was;
Nor guessed that purity's expression
Is beauty's cause:
No more that unenquiring heart
Perused the sweet home of her breast,
Than turtle-doves unline their nest
To scan the outer part
V
Although, in all that garden fair,
Whate'er delight abode, or grew,
Flowers, and trees, and balmy air,
Fountains, and birds, and heaven blue
Beyond compare:
In her their various charms had met,
And grown more varied by combining,
As budded plants do give and get,
Each inmate doubling while resigning
His several debt:
And yet she nursed one joy, above
Her thousand charms, nor bora of them,
But blooming on a single stem—
Her true faith in her love.
VI
And though, before she heard his foot,
The moon had climbed the homestead palm,
Flinging to her the shadowed fruit,
And tree-frogs ceased to break the calm,
And birds were mute,
With sudden transport ever new,
She blushed, and sprang from forth the bower,
Her eyes, as bright as moon-lit dew,
Her bosom glad as snow-veiled flower,
When sun shines through;
He, with a natural dignity
Untaught self-consciousness by harm,
Sustained her with his manly arm,
And smiled upon her glee.
VII
Next day, when early evening shone
Along the walks of Paradise,
Strewing with gold the hills, her throne,
Embarrassing the winds with spice
(Too rich a loan),
Fair Eve was in her bower of ease,
A cool arcade of fruit and flowers,
From North and East enclasped by trees,
But open to the Western showers,
And Southern breeze.
Here followed she her gardening trade,
Her favourites' simple needs attending,
When new-born earth was fain to lean
In Summer's arms, recovering
The unaccustomed toil of Spring,
Why slept not Eve, their Queen?
III
Upon a smooth fern-mantled stone
She sat, and watched the wicket-gate,
Not timid in her woman's throne,
Nor lonely in her sinless state,
Though all alone;
For having spread her simple board
With grapes, and peaches, milk, and flowers,
She strewed sweet mastic o'er the sward,
And waited through the bridal hours
Step of her lord.
Such innocence around her breathed,
And freshness of young nature's play,
The sensitive plant shrank not away,
And cactus' swords were sheathed.
IV
The vision of her beauty fell,
Like music on a moonlit place,
Or trembles of a silver bell,
Or memories of a sacred face,
Too dear to tell:
The grace that wandered free of laws,
The look that lit the heart's confession,
Had never dreamed how fair it was;
Nor guessed that purity's expression
Is beauty's cause:
No more that unenquiring heart
Perused the sweet home of her breast,
Than turtle-doves unline their nest
To scan the outer part
V
Although, in all that garden fair,
Whate'er delight abode, or grew,
Flowers, and trees, and balmy air,
Fountains, and birds, and heaven blue
Beyond compare:
In her their various charms had met,
And grown more varied by combining,
As budded plants do give and get,
Each inmate doubling while resigning
His several debt:
And yet she nursed one joy, above
Her thousand charms, nor bora of them,
But blooming on a single stem—
Her true faith in her love.
VI
And though, before she heard his foot,
The moon had climbed the homestead palm,
Flinging to her the shadowed fruit,
And tree-frogs ceased to break the calm,
And birds were mute,
With sudden transport ever new,
She blushed, and sprang from forth the bower,
Her eyes, as bright as moon-lit dew,
Her bosom glad as snow-veiled flower,
When sun shines through;
He, with a natural dignity
Untaught self-consciousness by harm,
Sustained her with his manly arm,
And smiled upon her glee.
VII
Next day, when early evening shone
Along the walks of Paradise,
Strewing with gold the hills, her throne,
Embarrassing the winds with spice
(Too rich a loan),
Fair Eve was in her bower of ease,
A cool arcade of fruit and flowers,
From North and East enclasped by trees,
But open to the Western showers,
And Southern breeze.
Here followed she her gardening trade,
Her favourites' simple needs attending,
Другие электронные книги автора Richard Doddridge Blackmore
Последний отзыв
В борьбе за власть есть первые; есть вторые; и есть 6ыдло (из канала BS "Без Слёз").
- Вторые всегда стремятся стать первыми. Но ресурсы власти – у п...
Далее