Английская поэзия

ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылки
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Henry King, Bishop of Chichester (Генри Кинг, епископ Чичестерский)

* * *

TELL me no more how fair she is,  
 I have no minde to hear  
The story of that distant bliss  
 I never shall come near:  
By sad experience I have found
That her perfection is my wound.  
And tell me not how fond I am  
 To tempt a daring Fate,  
From whence no triumph ever came,  
 But to repent too late:
There is some hope ere long I may  
In silence dote my self away.  
I ask no pity (Love) from thee,  
 Nor will thy justice blame,  
So that thou wilt not envy me
 The glory of my flame:  
Which crowns my heart when ere it dyes,  
In that it falls her sacrifice.

Henry King, Bishop of Chichester's other poems:
  1. Psalm I
  2. To a Lady Who Sent me a Copy of Verses at my Going to Bed
  3. Upon a Braid of Hair in a Heart sent by Mrs. E. H.
  4. The Legacy
  5. Sonnet. Go thou that vainly do'st mine eyes invite

Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать стихотворение (Poem to print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 589

Последние стихотворения

Поддержать сайт

To English version


Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru