Эдгар По – Ворон (страница 63)

                Стон! – стон! – стон!         В этом звоне непрерывном         Завываньем заунывным         Древних рун гудит глагол —                         Колокол!         В этом звоне непрерывном         Завываньем заунывным                 Раскололся колокол!                 Колокол! – Колокол!                 Разрыдался колокол!                 Ударяя непрерывно,                 Заливая звоном дол,                 Завывает заунывно,         Однотонный колокол!                 Колокол! – Колокол! —                 Похоронный колокол! Колокол! – Колокол! – Колокол!                         Колокол!         Отпевальный, погребальный колокол!

To Helen[121]

I saw thee once – once only – years ago: I must not say how many – but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturn’d faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe — Fell on the upturn’d faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death — Fell on the upturn’d faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn’d faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn’d – alas! in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight — Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world all slept, Save only thee and me – (Oh, Heaven! – oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused – I looked — And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses’ odours Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All – all expired save thee – save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes — Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them – they were the world to me. I saw but them – saw only them for hours — Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride!