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John Keats (Джон Китс)


On Seeing the Elgin Marbles


My spirit is too weak--mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagin'd pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship, tells me I must die
Like a sick Eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep,
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an undescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time--with a billowy main--
A sun--a shadow of a magnitude.



John Keats's other poems:
  1. Bards of Passion and of Mirth
  2. Written upon the Top of Ben Nevis
  3. Written in the Cottage where Burns Was Born
  4. Lines To Fanny
  5. Keen, Fitful Gusts Are Whisp'Ring Here And There


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