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William Watson (Уильям Уотсон) Lines (WITH A VOLUME OF THE AUTHOR'S POEMS SENT TO M.R.C.) Go, Verse, nor let the grass of tarrying grow Beneath thy feet iambic. Southward go O'er Thamesis his stream, nor halt until Thou reach the summit of a suburb hill To lettered fame not unfamiliar: there Crave rest and shelter of a scholiast fair, Who dwelleth in a world of old romance, Magic emprise and faery chevisaunce. Tell her, that he who made thee, years ago, By northern stream and mountain, and where blow Great breaths from the sea-sunset, at this day One half thy fabric fain would rase away; But she must take thee faults and all, my Verse, Forgive thy better and forget thy worse. Thee, doubtless, she shall place, not scorned, among More famous songs by happier minstrels sung;— In Shakespeare's shadow thou shalt find a home, Shalt house with melodists of Greece and Rome, Or awed by Dante's wintry presence be, Or won by Goethe's regal suavity, Or with those masters hardly less adored Repose, of Rydal and of Farringford; And—like a mortal rapt from men's abodes Into some skyey fastness of the gods— Divinely neighboured, thou in such a shrine Mayst for a moment dream thyself divine. William Watson's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1201 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |