Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик))

Upon Julia's Voice

When I thy singing next shall hear,
I'll wish I might turn all to ear,
To drink-in notes and numbers, such
As blessed souls can't hear too much
Then melted down, there let me lie
Entranced, and lost confusedly;
And by thy music strucken mute,
Die, and be turn'd into a Lute.

1. Love, What It Is
2. No Pains, No Gains
3. Upon Wrinkles
4. The Succession of the Four Sweet Months
5. Upon Tears

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1682

Последние стихотворения

To English version