William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир)

Dirge

Come away, come away, death,
   And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
   I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
   O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
   Did share it.

Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
   On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
   My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
   Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
   To weep there! 

1. The Church at Stratford
2. Anne Hathaway
3. Hark! Hark! The Lark
4. Fidele
5. It Was a Lover and His Lass

Edna Millay (Эдна Миллей) Dirge ("Boys and girls that held her dear")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 4252

Последние стихотворения

To English version