Richard Chenevix Trench (Ричард Ченевикс Тренч)

To ——

What maiden gathers flowers, who does not love?
And some have said, that none in summer bowers,
Save lovers, wreathe them garlands of fresh flowers:
O lady, of a purpose dost thou move
Through garden walks, as willing to disprove
This gentle faith; who, with uncareful hand,
Hast culled a thousand thus at my command,
Wherewith thou hast this dewy garland wove.
There is no meaning in a thousand flowers—
One lily from its green stalk wouldst thou part,
Or pluck, and to my bosom I will fold,
One rose, selected from these wealthy bowers,
Upgathering closely to its virgin heart
An undivulgèd hoard of central gold.

1. To the Same (Look, dearest, what a glory from the sun)
2. To the Same (Songs of deliverance compassed thee about)
3. To the Same (If sorrow came not near us, and the lore)
4. England (We look for, and have promise to behold)
5. The Same

William Watson (Уильям Уотсон) To —— ("Unto the Lady of The Nook")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1798

Последние стихотворения

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