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Thomas Randolph (Томас Рэндольф) A Devout Lover I have a mistress, for perfections rare In every eye, but in my thoughts most fair. Like tapers on the altar shine her eyes; Her breath is the perfume of sacrifice; And wheresoe'er my fancy would begin, Still her perfection lets religion in. We sit and talk, and kiss away the hours As chastely as the morning dews kiss flowers: I touch her, like my beads, with devout care, And come unto my courtship as my prayer. Thomas Randolph's other poems:
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |