Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 46

Behold, the young, the rosy Spring,
Gives to the breeze her scented wing;
While virgin Graces, warm with May,
Fling roses o’er her dewy way.
The murmuring billows of the deep
Have languish’d into silent sleep;
And mark! the flitting sea-birds lave
Their plumes in the reflecting wave;
While cranes from hoary winter fly
To flutter in a kinder sky.
Now the genial star of day
Dissolves the murky clouds away;
And cultured field, and winding stream,
Are freshly glittering in his beam.
            Now the earth prolific swells,
With leafy buds and flowery bells;
Gemming shoots the olive twine,
Clusters ripe festoon the vine;
All along the branches creeping,
Through the velvet foliage peeping,
Little infant fruits we see,
Nursing into luxury.

1. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 69
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 26
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 115. Song of Innisfail
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 38

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1870

Последние стихотворения

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