Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Alfred Tennyson (Альфред Теннисон)


* * *


Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me. 



Alfred Tennyson's other poems:
  1. The Lord of Burleigh
  2. The Cock
  3. Нищая и корольThe Beggar Maid
  4. To The Rev. F. D. Maurice
  5. Recollection of the Arabian Nights


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1801


Последние стихотворения


To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru