Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт)


Roman Antiquities Discovered at Bishopstone, Herefordshire


WHILE poring antiquarians search the ground
Upturned with curious pains, the bard, a seer,
Takes fire,—the men that have been reappear;
Romans for travel girt, for business gowned;
And some recline on couches, myrtle-crowned,
In festal glee: why not? For fresh and clear,
As if its hues were of the passing year,
Dawns this time-buried pavement. From that mound
Hoards may come forth of Trajans, Maximins,
Shrunk into coins with all their warlike toil;
Or a fierce impress issues with its foil
Of tenderness,—the wolf, whose suckling twins
The unlettered ploughboy pities when he wins
The casual treasure from the furrowed soil.



William Wordsworth's other poems:
  1. Foresight, Or the Charge of a Child to His Younger Companion
  2. The Mother's Return
  3. The Pet Lamb
  4. The Blind Highland Boy
  5. Address to a Child, During a Boisterous Winter Evening


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2100


Последние стихотворения


To English version



Английская поэзия