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Thomas Campion (Томас Кэмпион)


* * *


When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear,
As any challenged echo clear;
But when she doth of mourning speak,
E'en with her sighs, the strings do break,

And as her lute doth live or die,
Led by her passion, so must I:
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
E'en from my heart the strings do break.



Thomas Campion's other poems:
  1. Follow Your Saint
  2. Fain Would I Wed
  3. Integer Vitae
  4. My Sweetest Lesbia
  5. View Me, Lord, A Work Of Thine


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