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Paul Hamilton Hayne (Пол Гамильтон Хейн) Song of the Naiads GAY is our crystal floor, Beneath the wave, With strange gems flaming o'er The Genii gave; Sweet is the purple light That haunts our happy sight, And low and sweet the lulling strains that sigh While the tides pause, and the faint zephyrs die. Come! come! and seek us here, In these cool deeps, Where all is calmly fair, And sorrow sleeps: Thy burning brow shall rest, Couched on a tender breast! And, charmed to bliss, thy soul shall catch the gleams Of mystic glories in Elysian dreams. Come! ere the earth grows drear, The tempests rave, And the fast-failing year Is nigh its grave: Thy summer, too, is past; Wouldst thou have peace at last? O! here she dwells serenely in still caves, And waits to woo thee underneath the waves. Paul Hamilton Hayne's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1207 |
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