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Jonathan Swift (Джонатан Свифт)


On the Moon


I with borrow'd silver shine
What you see is none of mine.
First I show you but a quarter,
Like the bow that guards the Tartar:
Then the half, and then the whole,
Ever dancing round the pole.

What will raise your admiration,
I am not one of God's creation,
But sprung, (and I this truth maintain,)
Like Pallas, from my father's brain.
And after all, I chiefly owe
My beauty to the shades below.

Most wondrous forms you see me wear,
A man, a woman, lion, bear,
A fish, a fowl, a cloud, a field,
All figures Heaven or earth can yield;
Like Daphne sometimes in a tree;
Yet am not one of all you see. 



Jonathan Swift's other poems:
  1. Sid Hamet’s Rod
  2. Jack Frenchman’s Lamentation
  3. On Cutting down the Thorn at Market-Hill
  4. Louisa to Strephon
  5. On the Posteriors


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