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Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик))


To Groves


Ye silent shades, whose each tree here
Some relique of a saint doth wear;
Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove
The fire and martyrdom of Love:—
Here is the legend of those saints
That died for love, and their complaints;
Their wounded hearts, and names we find
Encarved upon the leaves and rind.
Give way, give way to me, who come
Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom!
And have deserved as much, Love knows,
As to be canonized 'mongst those
Whose deeds and deaths here written are
Within your Greeny-kalendar.
—By all those virgins' fillets hung
Upon!  your boughs, and requiems sung
For saints and souls departed hence,
Here honour'd still with frankincense;
By all those tears that have been shed,
As a drink-offering to the dead;
By all those true-love knots, that be
With mottoes carved on every tree;
By sweet Saint Phillis!  pity me;
By dear Saint Iphis!  and the rest
Of all those other saints now blest,
Me, me forsaken,—here admit
Among your myrtles to be writ;
That my poor name may have the glory
To live remember'd in your story.



Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. Моему злому читателюTo My Ill Reader
  2. Противление поцелуямKisses Loathsome
  3. К Юлии в храмеTo Julia in the Temple
  4. The Fairies
  5. The Bracelet to Julia


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