Английская поэзия

ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Isabella Valancy Crawford (Изабелла Валанси Кроуфорд)


Shall Thor with his hammer
  Beat on the mountain,
As on an anvil,
  A shackle and fetter?

Shall the lame Vulcan
  Shout as he swingeth
God-like his hammer,
  And forge thee a fetter?

Shall Jove, the Thunderer,
  Twine his swift lightnings
With his loud thunders,
  And forge thee a shackle?

"No," shouts the Titan,
  The young lion-throated;
"Thor, Vulcan, nor Jove
  Cannot shackle and bind me."

Tell what will bind thee,
  Thou young world-shaker,
Up vault our oceans,
Down fall our forests.

Ship-masts and pillars
  Stagger and tremble,
Like reeds by the margins
  Of swift running waters.

Men's hearts at thy roaring
  Quiver like harebells
Smitten by hailstones,
  Smitten and shaken.

"O sages and wise men!
  O bird-hearted tremblers!
Come, I will show ye
  A shackle to bind me.

I, the lion-throated,
  The shaker of mountains!
I, the invincible,
  Lasher of oceans!

"Past the horizon,
  Its ring of pale azure
Past the horizon,
  Where scurry the white clouds,

There are buds and small flowers--
  Flowers like snow-flakes,
Blossoms like rain-drops,
  So small and tremulous.

Therein a fetter
  Shall shackle and bind me,
Shall weigh down my shouting
  With their delicate perfume!"

But who this frail fetter
  Shall forge on an anvil,
With hammer of feather
  And anvil of velvet?

Past the horizon,
  In the palm of a valley,
Her feet in the grasses,
  There is a maiden.

She smiles on the flowers,
  They widen and redden,
She weeps on the flowers,
  They grow up and kiss her.

She breathes in their bosoms,
  They breathe back in odours;
Inarticulate homage,
  Dumb adoration.

She shall wreathe them in shackles,
  Shall weave them in fetters;
In chains shall she braid them,
  And me shall she fetter.

I, the invincible;
  March, the earth-shaker;
March, the sea-lifter;
  March, the sky-render;

March, the lion-throated.
  April the weaver
Of delicate blossoms,
  And moulder of red buds--

Shall, at the horizon,
  Its ring of pale azure,
Its scurry of white clouds,
  Meet in the sunlight.

Isabella Valancy Crawford's other poems:
  1. A Perfect Strain
  2. Bouche-Mignonne
  3. An Interregnum
  4. Late Loved - Well Loved
  5. How Deacon Fry Bought a “Duchess”

Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Edward Thomas (Эдвард Томас) March ("Now I know that Spring will come again")
  • William Morris (Уильям Моррис) March ("Slayer of the winter, art thou here again?")
  • Thomas Tusser (Томас Тассер) March ("In March sow thy barley, thy land not too cold")
  • William Bryant (Уильям Брайант) March ("The stormy March is come at last")
  • Madison Cawein (Мэдисон Кавейн) March ("This is the tomboy month of all the year")
  • John Payne (Джон Пейн) March ("MARCH comes at last, the labouring lands to free")
  • William Williams (Уильям Уильямс) March ("Winter is long in this climate")

    Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

    Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1235

    Последние стихотворения

    To English version

  • Рейтинг@Mail.ru

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