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Çàðàç íà ñàéò³ - 1
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Henry Howard

Ïðî÷èòàíèé : 177


Òâîð÷³ñòü | Á³îãðàô³ÿ | Êðèòèêà

Alas! so all things now do hold their peace

Alas!  so  all  things  now  do  hold  their  peace!
Heaven  and  earth  disturbed  in  no  thing;
The  beasts,  the  air,  the  birds  their  song  do  cease,
The  nightès  car  the  stars  about  doth  bring.
Calm  is  the  sea;  the  waves  work  less  and  less:
So  am  not  I,  whom  love,  alas  !    doth  wring,
Bringing  before  my  face  the  great  increase
Of  my  desires,  whereat  I  weep  and  sing,
In  joy  and  woe,  as  in  a  doubtful  case.
For  my  sweet  thoughts  sometime  do  pleasure  bring;
But  by  and  by,  the  cause  of  my  disease
Gives  me  a  pang,  that  inwardly  doth  sting,
       When  that  I  think  what  grief  it  is  again,
       To  live  and  lack  the  thing  should  rid  my  pain.


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