Текст оригинала на английском языке
To the Queen at Oxford
Great Lady! That thus quite against our use, We speak your welcome by an English Muse, And in a vulgar tongue our zeales contrive, Is to confess your large prerogative, Who have the pow'rful freedom to dispense With our strict Rules, or Customes difference. Tis fit when such a Star deigns to appeare And shine within the Academick Spheare, That ev'ry Colledge grac't by your resort, Should onely speak the language of your Court; As if Apollo's learned Quire, but You No other Queen of the Ascendent knew. Let those that list invoke the Delphian name, To light their verse, and quench their doting flame; In Helicon it were High Treason now, Did any to a feign'd Minerva bow; When You are present, whose chast vertues stain The vaunted glories of her Maiden brain. I would not flatter. May that dyet feed Deform'd and vicious soules: they onely need Such physick, who grown sick of their decayes, Are onely cur'd with surfets of false praise; Like those, who fall'n from Youth or Beauties grace, Lay colours on which more bely the face. Be You still what You are; a glorious Theme For Truth to crown. So when that Diademe Which circles Your fair brow drops off, and time Shall lift You to that pitch our prayers climbe; Posterity will plat a nobler wreath, To crown Your fame and memory in death. This is sad truth and plain, which I might fear Would scarce prove welcome to a Princes ear; And hardly may you think that Writer wise Who preaches there where he should poetize; Yet where so rich a bank of goodness is, Triumphs and Feasts admit such thoughts as this; Nor will your vertue from her Client turn, Although he bring his tribute in an urn. Enough of this: who knowes not when to end Needs must by tedious diligence offend. 'Tis not a Poets office to advance The precious value of allegiance. And least of all the rest do I affect To word my duty in this dialect. My service lies a better way, whose tone Is spirited by full devotion. Thus whil'st I mention You, Your Royal Mate, And Those which your blest line perpetuate, I shall such votes of happiness reherse, Whose softest accents will out-tongue my verse.
Английская поэзия - http://eng-poetry.ru/. Адрес для связи email@example.com