Thomas Gray: Все стихи поэта

Все стихи Оригиналы Переводы

Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude

Now the golden Morn aloft

Waves her dew-bespangled wing,

With vermeil cheek, and whisper soft

She woos the tardy Spring:

Till April starts, and calls around

The sleeping fragrance from the ground;

And lightly o'er the living scene

Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

by Thomas Gray

The Progress of Poesy: A Pindaric Ode

Awake, Æolian lyre, awake,

And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.

From Helicon's harmonious springs

A thousand rills their mazy progress take:

The laughing flowers, that round them blow,

Drink life and fragrance as they flow.

Now the rich stream of music winds along

by Thomas Gray

The Fatal Sisters: An Ode

(FROM THE NORSE TONGUE)

Now the storm begins to lower,

(Haste, the loom of Hell prepare.)

Iron-sleet of arrowy shower

Hurtles in the darken'd air.

Glitt'ring lances are the loom,

Where the dusky warp we strain,

Weaving many a soldier's doom,

by Thomas Gray

The Curse Upon Edward

WEAVE the warp, and weave the woof,

The winding-sheet of Edward's race.

Give ample room, and verge enough

The characters of hell to trace.

Mark the year, and mark the night,

When Severn shall re-echo with affright

The shrieks of death, thro' Berkley's roofs that ring,

Shrieks of an agonizing King!

by Thomas Gray

Hymn to Adversity

Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,

Thou tamer of the human breast,

Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour

The Bad affright, afflict the Best!

Bound in thy adamantine chain

The Proud are taught to taste of pain,

And purple Tyrants vainly groan

With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.

by Thomas Gray

Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,

That crown the watry glade,

Where grateful Science still adores

Her Henry's holy shade;

And ye that from the stately brow

Of Windsor's height th' expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,

Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among

by Thomas Gray

The Bard

I. 1.

"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!

Confusion on thy banners wait,

Tho' fanned by Conquest's crimson wing

They mock the air with idle state.

Helm, nor Hauberk's twisted mail,

Nor even thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail

To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,

by Thomas Gray

On the Death of Richard West

In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,

And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire;

The birds in vain their amorous descant join;

Or cheerful fields resume their green attire;

These ears, alas! for other notes repine,

A different object do these eyes require;

My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;

And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.

by Thomas Gray

Ode On The Spring

Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours,

Fair Venus' train appear,

Disclose the long-expecting flowers,

And wake the purple year!

The Attic warbler pours her throat,

Responsive to the cuckoo's note,

The untaught harmony of spring:

While whisp'ring pleasure as they fly,

by Thomas Gray

Ode On The Death Of A Favourite Cat Drowned In A Tub Of Gold Fishes

Twas on a lofty vase's side,

Where China's gayest art had dyed

The azure flowers that blow;

Demurest of the tabby kind,

The pensive Selima, reclined,

Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declared;

The fair round face, the snowy beard,

by Thomas Gray

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight,

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,

And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

by Thomas Gray