Базовый курс английского языка - Эккерсли К.Э.
ISBN 5-7871-0174-X
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A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
W.H. Davies (1871-1940)
(3)
REQUIEM Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me die,
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
R.L. Stevenson (1850-1894)
(4)
TO A LADY SEEN FROM THE TRAIN
О why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
О fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves And shivering-sweet to the touch?
О why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
Frances Comford (1886-)
(5)
О my Love's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June:
О my Love's like the melody That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny lass, So deep in love am I:
And I will love thee still, my dear, Till all the seas gang1 dry:
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt with the sun;
1 gang (Scottish)=go. The spelling of some of the words has been anglicised.
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Love!
And fare thee well a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
Robert Bums (1759- 1796)
(6)
UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE
September 3, 1802
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, dom6s, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did the sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
(7)
TO A POET A THOUSAND YEARS HENCE I who am dead a thousand years,
And wrote this sweet archaic song, Send you my words for messengers The way I shall not pass along.
I care not if you bridge the seas,
Or ride secure the cruel sky,
Or build consummate palaces Of metal or of masonry.
483 ¦
But have you wine and music still,
And statues and a bright-eyed love,
And foolish thoughts of good and ill,
And prayers to them who sit above?
How shall we conquer? Like a wind That falls at eve our fancies blow,
And old Maeonides1 the blind Said it three thousand years ago.
0 friend unseen, unborn, unknown,
Student of our sweet English tongue,
Read out my words at night, alone:
I was a poet, I was young.
Since 1 can never see your face,
And never shake you by the hand,
1 send my soul through time and space To greet you. You will understand.
James Elroy Flecker (1884-1915)
(8)
PIPPA'S SONG The year's at the spring,
The day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His Heaven-
All's right with the world.
Robert Browning (1812-1889)
* * *
HOB: I can't be bothered with poetry, unless it's comic poetry.
OLAF: Do you know any comic poetry. Hob?
HOB: Well, I know
1 Homer ¦484
There was a young lady of Niger,
Who went for a ride on a tiger,
They returned from the ride With the lady inside And a smile on the face of the tiger.
MR. PRIESTLEY: That's a limerick.
LUCILE: What are limericks?
MR. PRIESTLEY: They are a form of comic verse. They generally begin: "There was a..."; they have five lines, three long ones (the first, second and fifth) with the same rhyme, and two short ones with another rhyme. There are hundreds of them in English. The most famous ones were those written by Edward Lear.1
FRIEDA: Could you tell us one of his?
MR. PRIESTLEY: Well, one of the best known is:
There was an old man with a beard,
Who said: "It is just as I feared!
Two owls and a hen,
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard."
PEDRO: I know a limerick about a Japanese gentleman who had such a long name that it took several days to pronounce it.
MR. PRIESTLEY: All limericks are not quite suitable for a class like this; but I know that one, and you can tell it quite safely.
PEDRO: Thank you, sir. It goes:
There was a great man of Japan,
Whose name on a Tuesday began;
It lasted through Sunday Till midnight on Monday And sounded like stones in a can.
MR. PRIESTLEY: I don't think the limerick is to be found in any language except English. Neither is the Clerihew.
1 (1812-1888).
485 ¦
JAN: That's a strange word. Whatever is a Clerihew?
MR. PRIESTLEY: It's a form of comic verse invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley.1 A Clerihew has only four lines and is a sort of comic "biography". In fact'Mr. Bentley called his book of Clerihews Biography for Beginners.
