Felicia Dorothea Hemans: Всі вірші поета

Всі вірші Оригінали Переклади

« ‹ 1 2 3 4 5 › »

The Sky-Lark

THE Sky-lark, when the dews of morn

Hang tremulous on flower and thorn,

And violets round his nest exhale

Their fragrance on the early gale,

To the first sunbeam spreads his wings,

Buoyant with joy, and soars, and sings.

He rests not on the leafy spray,

To warble his exulting lay,

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Suliote Mother

She stood upon the loftiest peak,

Amidst the clear blue sky,

A bitter smile was on her cheek,

And a dark flash in her eye.

"Dost thou see then, boy?—through the dusky pines

Dost thou see where the foeman's armour shines?

Hast thou caught the gleam of the conqueror's crest?

My babe, that I cradled on my breast!

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Birds

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God.

~ Luke, xii, 6.

TRIBES of the air! whose favored race

May wander through the realms of space,

Free guests of earth and sky;

In form, in plumage, and in song,

What gifts of nature mark your throng

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Pilgrim Fathers

The breaking waves dashed high

On a stern and rock-bound coast,

And the woods against a stormy sky

Their giant branches tossed;

And the heavy night hung dark,

The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their bark

On the wild New England shore.

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Spanish Chapel

I made a mountain-brook my guide

Thro' a wild Spanish glen,

And wandered, on its grassy side,

Far from the homes of men.

It lured me with a singing tone,

And many a sunny glance,

To a green spot of beauty lone,

A haunt for old romance.

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Ocean

They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters, these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.

~ Psalm cvii. 23, 24.

HE that in venturous barks hath been

A wanderer on the deep,

Can tell of many an awful scene,

Where storms for ever sweep.

For many a fair, majestic sight

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Dirge

CALM on the bosom of thy God,

Fair spirit, rest thee now!

E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod,

His seal was on thy brow.

Dust, to its narrow house beneath!

Soul, to its place on high!

They that have seen thy look in death

No more may fear to die.

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

To A Younger Child

A Similar Occasion, 17 September, 1825.

Where sucks the bee now? Summer is flying;

Leaves on the grass-plot faded are lying;

Violets are gone from the grassy dell,

With the cowslip-cups, where the fairies dwell;

The rose from the garden hath passed away?

Yet happy, fair boy! is thy natal day.

For love bids it welcome, the love which hath smiled

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

To The Memory Of Heber

If it be sad to speak of treasures gone,

Of sainted genius call'd too soon away,

Of light, from this world taken, while it shone

Yet kindling onward to the perfect day;

How shall our grief, if mournful these things be,

Flow forth, oh, Thou of many gifts! for thee?

Hath not thy voice been here amongst us heard?

And that deep soul of gentleness and power,

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Rock Of Cader Idris

I LAY on that rock where the storms have their dwelling,

The birthplace of phantoms, the home of the cloud;

Around it for ever deep music is swelling,

The voice of the mountain-wind, solemn and loud.

'Twas a midnight of shadows all fitfully streaming,

Of wild waves and breezes, that mingled their moan;

Of dim shrouded stars, as from gulfs faintly gleaming;

And I met the dread gloom of its grandeur alone.

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Arabella Stuart

And is not love in vain, Torture enough without a living tomb?

Byron

Fermossi al fin il cor che balzò tanto.

Pindemonte

'TWAS but a dream!–I saw the stag leap free,

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

To A Departed Spirit

From the bright stars, or from the viewless air,

Or from some world unreached by human thought,

Spirit, sweet spirit! if thy home be there,

And if thy visions with the past be fraught,

Answer me, answer me!

Have we not communed here of life and death?

Have we not said that love, such love as ours,

Was not to perish as a rose's breath,

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans