Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Song from Heine

I scanned her picture, dreaming,
Till each dear line and hue
Was imaged, to my seeming,
As if it lived anew.

Her lips began to borrow
Their former wondrous smile;
Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,
Grew sparkling as erstwhile.

Such tears as often ran not
Ran then, my love, for thee;
And O, believe I cannot
That thou art lost to me!

1. The End of the Episode
2. On a Discovered Curl of Hair
3. The Prophetess
4. Thoughts of Phena
5. After Schiller

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1570

Последние стихотворения

To English version