Whispers. Timid breathing. Trilling
Of a nightingale.
Heaving silver waters rilling
In the quiet vale.
Night's dim light and shadows dreaming
Through the haze of space.
Moods like faery lanterns gleaming
On the dearest face.
Smoky clouds show roses sleeping,
Amber lights and fawn.
Kisses soft, and softer weeping.
And the dawn, the dawn!
Шёпот, робкое дыханье,
Трели соловья,
Серебро и колыханье
Сонного ручья,
Свет ночной, ночные тени,
Тени без конца,
Ряд волшебных изменений
Милого лица,
В дымных тучках пурпур розы,
Отблеск янтаря,
И лобзания, и слёзы,
И заря, заря!..
«Believe it not, when in excess of sorrow / I murmur that my love for thee is o’er! / When ebbs the tide, think not the sea’s a traitor, — / He will return and love the land once more. / / I still am pining, full of former passion: / To thee again my freedom I’ll restore, / ...»
«Brighter look the early flowers, / Louder sounds the skylark’s strain; / Blue the air and green the bowers, / And the heart feels young again. / / Shaking off all bonds and fetters, / Flinging every chain aside, / Life in sunshine flows and glitters / Like the freely flowing tid...»
«A whisper, a gentle sigh, / Trills of the nightingale; / The silver flash of the brook / Asleep in the sleepy vale. The shadow and shine of night / Shadows in endless race; / The sweep of a magical change / Over a sweet young face. The blush of a rose in the mist, / An amber glea...»
«Wondrous the picture, — / How homelike to me! / Distant plain whitening, / Full moon on the lea; Light — in the heavens high, / And snow flashing bright; / Sledge in the distance / In its lonely flight.»