Лінгвістичні особливості вираження простору почуттів в англійській поезії (порівняльний аспект) (стр. 14 )

Whom but to see is to admire,

And, oh! Forgive the word – to love.

6

Forgive the word, in one who ne’er

With such a word can more offend;

And since thy heart I cannot share,

Believe me, what I am, thy friend.

7

And who so cold as look on thee,

Thon lovely wand’rer, and be less?

Nor be, what man should ever be,

The friend of Beauty in distress?

8

Ah! Who would think that form had past

Through Danger’s most destructive path,

Had braved the death-winged tempest’s blast,

And ‘scaped a Tyrant’s fiercer wrath?

9

Lady! When I shall view the walls

Where free Byzantium once arose,

And Stamboul’s Oriental halls

The Turkish tyrants now enclose;

10

Though mightiest in the lists of fame,

That glorious city still shall be;

On me ‘twill hold a dearer claim,

As spot of thy nativity:

11

And though I bid thee now farewell,

When I behold that a wonderous scene –

Since where thou art I may not dwell –

‘Twill soothe to be where thou hast been.

REMIND ME NOT,

REMIND ME NOT

1

Remind me not, remind me not,

Of those beloved, those vanished hours,

When all my soul was given to thee;

Hours that may never be forgot,

Till Time unnerves our vital powers,

And thou and I shall cease to be.

2

Can I forget – canst thou forget,

When playing with thy golden hair,

Quick thy fluttering heart did move?

Oh, by my soul, I see thee yet,

With eyes so languid, breast so fair,

And lips, though silent, breathing love.

3

When thus reclining on my breast,

Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet,

As half reproach’d yet rais’d desire,

And still our glowing lips would meet,

As if in kisses to expire.

4

And then those pensive eyes would close,

And bid their lids each other seek,

Veiling the azzure orbs below;

While their long lashes’ darken’d gloss

Seem’d stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek,

Like raven’s plumage smooth’d on snow.

5

I dreamt last night our love return’d,

And, sooth to say, that very dream

Was sweeter in its phantasy,

Than in for other hearts I burn’d,

For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam

In Rapture’s wild reality.

6

Then tell me not, remind me not,

Of hours which, though for ever gone,

Can still a pleasing dream restore,

Till thou and I shall be forgot,

And senseless, as the mouldering stone

Which tells that we shall be no more.

Christina Rossetti

MEMORY

I nursed it in my bosom while it lived,

I hid it in my heart when it was dead.

In joy I sat alone; even so I grieved

Alone, and nothing said.

I shut the door to face the naked truth,

I stood alone – I faced the truth alone,

Stripped bare of shelf-regard or forms or ruth

Till first and last were shown.

I took the perfect balances and weighed;

No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise;

Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said,

But silence made my choice.

None know the choice I made; it make it still.

None know the choice I made and broke my heart,

Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will

Once, chosen for once my part.

I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold,

Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live.

My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old,

Grows old in which I grieve.

I have a room whereinto no one enters

Save I myself alone:

There sits a blessed memory on a throne,

There my life centres.

While winter comes and goes – oh tedious comer! –

And while its nip-wind blows;

While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose

Of lavish summer.

If any should force entrance he might see ther

One buried yet not dead,

Before whose face I no more bow my head

Or bend my knee there;

But often in my worn life’s autumn weather

I watch there with clear eyes,

And think how it will be in Paradise

When we’re together.

FROM THE ANTIQUE

It’s a weary life, it is, she said:

Doubly blank in a woman’s lot:

I wish and I wish I were a man:

Or better than any being, were not:

Were nothing at all in all the world.

Not a body and not a soul:

Not so much as a grain of dust