Alfred Tennyson (Альфред Теннисон)

* * *

O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet!
How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs?
I only ask to sit beside thy feet.
Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.
Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold
My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak.
And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,
As with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek.
Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control
Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat
The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,
The bare word "kiss" hath made my inner soul
To tremble like a lute string, ere the note
Hath melted in the silence that it broke. 

1. In the Valley of Cauteretz
2. The Cock
3. The Sailor Boy
4. The Letters
5. Move Eastward, Happy Earth

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2094

Последние стихотворения

To English version