|
||
|
|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
William Billington (Уильям Биллингтон) An Hour with Nature and with Night I STOOD upon a steep cloud-haunted hill, When clear and cloudless was the evening sky; As bliss fills Heaven, did sacred silence fill The wide-womb'd welkin; universal space Throbbed with o'erfulness of the Deity; The circumspheral Air, which doth embrace The World, was hushed in worship mute and still; Like spirit-beacons, star by star, apace The constellations kindled—Earth did lie In glory-trance beneath the Sun-god's eye, Whose ardent love-gaze grew more mild and dim, As though a flood of jealous tears did swim Down his bright cheeks, at leaving her green breast To Night's embrace, while he unmated sank to rest. A range of giant hills enringed me round, Like statues round a monument, that keep Untiring watch while Time sweeps past age-crown'd, And, bowed in homage, ever watch and weep; As Ocean to the Moon, my heart did leap With tidal impulse surging up to Heaven; I fell his spirit-home is in the deep Dim starry distance, maugre man's earth-leaven. 'Neath burning, cloud-built battlements, which flanked Earth's utmost boundary like a wall of fire, With golden towers and lightning-bastions pranked, And castles kinged with many a flaming spire, Through rosy light old Ocean's visage shone, Like Lucifer's bright brow, when flushed with reddening dawn. And when the Sea had rocked the Sun to rest, And Earth, in dew, poured forth her farewell tears, The queenly Moon arose, crowned with a crest Of white and wavy flame; from east to west, The darkened heavens were flushed with flaming spheres, As dewdrops numberless! And God, the God Of earth, is God of all those dark and bright Unfathomable deeps, where wildest flight Of human fancy fails! This mundane clod— Man's temporal home—how infinitely small Compared with Night whom world-starred robes invest! Nor would our little Solar System's fall E're dim the lustre of his crown of light, For Night is God's own Bard—Oh! how I envy Night! William Billington's other poems: Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1564 |
||
|
|
||
Английская поэзия | ||