John Cunningham (Джон Каннингем)

Clarinda

CLARINDA'S lips I fondly press'd,
While rapture fill'd each vein;
And as I touch'd her downy breast,
Its tenant slept serene.

So soft a calm, in such a part,
Betrays a peaceful mind;
Whilst my uneasy, fluttering heart,
Would scarcely be confin'd.

A stubborn oak the shepherd sees,
Unmov'd, when storms descend;
But, ah! to every sporting breeze,
The myrtle bough must bend.

1. The Respite
2. A Man to My Mind
3. Reputation
4. Fanny of the Dell
5. Hymen

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1261

Последние стихотворения

To English version