|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
To Solitude Thou, that at deep dead of night Walk'st forth beneath the pale moon's light, In robe of flowing black array'd, While cypress-leaves thy brows o'ershade; List'ning to the crowing cock, And the distant-sounding clock; Or sitting in thy cavern low, Do'st hear the bleak winds loudly blow, Or the hoarse death-boding owl, Or village maistiff's wakeful howl, While through thy melancholy room A dim lamp casts an awful gloom; Thou, that on the meadow green, Or daisy'd upland art not seen, But wand'ring by the dusky nooks, And the pensive-falling brooks, Or near some rugged, herbless rock, Where no shepherd keeps his flock! Musing maid, to thee I come, Hating the tradeful city's hum; O let me calmly dwell with thee, From noisy mirth and bus'ness free, With meditation seek the skies, This folly-fetter'd world despise! Joseph Warton's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1223 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |