Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter. Iubea Werther pe Charlotte Cât nu-ncape în cuvinte. Când şi cum a …
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I …
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air Of absence withers what was once so fair? Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant? Yet have my …
One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death!O altă oropsită, Sătulă de-amar, Călcă nesăbuită Al morţii hotar!
With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread— Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She …
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry " 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!" So your chimneys I sweep amd in soot I sleep. Când se stinse …
Titan! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise; What was thy pity's recompense? A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, …
The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit …
Oft, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, …
Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth, and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime! Clopot târziu, clopotul blând, Atâta dor mi-aduce-n gând De anii …
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet …
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Voi, englezi, de ce araţi Pentru domnii îmbuibaţi? De ce-i ţeseţi cu migală Despotului …
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This sea that …
Wee, modest, crimson-tippèd flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem: To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Sfioasă, albă floricea, A rânduit ce …
Away with your fictions of flimsy romance; Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove! Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. Mi-e silă de-acele …
Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound …
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare, As ever trod on airn; But now she's floating down the Nith, And past the mouth o' Cairn. Peg Nicholson a fost o iapă, Şi umblă-acum fără picioare, Cu vechile-i potcoave-n …
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass Like little ripples down a sunny river; Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass, Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever. Necazurile tale, Ianthe, seamăn Cu undele din însoritul …
Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. Pe mândră Maisie o cam prind Prin codru zorii; Plăcut se-aud ciripăind Prin crengi prigorii."Tell me, thou bonny bird, When …
Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades; Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse that gives Immortal youth to mortal maids. Ruină-i Troia, dar Elena-i vie, Alcesta dintre umbre, e în floare, Căci versul dăruieşte tinereţe …
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