1 мин
Слушать(AI)Evening Ode
To Stella:
Evening now from purple
Sheds the grateful gifts she brings;
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,
Cooling breezes shake the reed;
Shake the reed, and curl the
Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam;
Near the chequer'd, lonely grove,
Hears, and keeps thy secrets, love!
Stella, thither let us stray,
Lightly o'er the dewy way.
Phoebus drives his burning car,
Hence, my lovely Stella, far;
In his stead, the queen of
Round us pours a lambent light:
Light that seems but just to
Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow;
Let us now, in whisper'd joy,
Evening's silent hours employ,
Silent best, and conscious shades,
Please the hearts that love invades,
Other pleasures give them pain,
Lovers all but love disdain.
Samuel Johnson
Samuel Johnson (18 September 1709 [OS 7 September] – 13 December 1784), often referred to as Dr Johnson, was an English writer who made lasting
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
To Mrs Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Long may better years arrive, Better years than thirty-five
To Myrtilis - The New Years Offering
Madam, Long have I look'd my tablets o'er, And find I've much to thank you for; Outstanding debts beyond account,
The Young Author
When first the peasant, long inclined to roam, Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home, Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields, He scorns the verdant meads and flowery fields;
Horace Book II Ode 9
Clouds do not always veil the skies, Nor showers immerse the verdant plain; Nor do the billows always rise, Or storms afflict the ruffled main
