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Thomas Love Peacock (Томас Лав Пикок) Terzetto Hark! o'er the silent waters stealing, The dash of oars sounds soft and clear: Through night's deep veil, all forms concealing, Nearer it comes, and yet more near. See! where the long reflection glistens, In yon lone tower her watch-light burns: To hear our distant oars she listens, And, listtening, strikes the harp by turns. The stars are bright, the skies unclouded; No moonbeam shines; no breezes wake: Is it my love, in darkness shrouded, Whose dashing oar disturbs the lake? O haste, sweet maid, the cords unrolling; The holy hermit chides our stay! Hark! from his lonely islet tolling, His midnight bell shall guide our way. Thomas Love Peacock's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1272 |
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