Jonathan Swift (Джонатан Свифт)

At Holyhead

O NEPTUNE! Neptune! must I still
Be here detained against my will?
Is this your justice when I ’m come
Above two hundred miles from home,
O’er mountains steep, o’er dusty plains,
Half choked with dust, half drowned with rains,
Only your godship to implore
To let me kiss your other shore?
A boon so small! but I may weep
While you ’re, like Baal, fast asleep.

1. A Rebus. By Vanessa
2. Dean Swift at Sir Arthur Acheson’s, in the North of Ireland
3. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. 9 • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. 9
4. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. 12 • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. 12
5. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. 5 • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. 5

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1754

Последние стихотворения

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