Эдгар По – Ворон (страница 66)

        Feet under ground — From a cavern not very far         Down under ground. And ah! let it never         Be foolishly said That my room it is gloomy         And narrow my bed; For man never slept         In a different bed — And, to sleep, you must slumber         In just such a bed. My tantalised spirit         Here blandly reposes, Forgetting, or never         Regretting its roses — Its old agitations         Of myrtles and roses: For now, while so quietly         Lying, it fancies A holier odour         About it, of pansies — A rosemary odour,         Commingled with pansies — With rue and the beautiful         Puritan pansies. And so it lies happily,         Bathing in many A dream of the truth         And the beauty of Annie — Drowned in a bath         Of the tresses of Annie. She tenderly kissed me,         She fondly caressed, And then I fell gently         To sleep on her breast — Deeply to sleep         From the heaven of her breast. When the light was extinguished,         She covered me warm, And she prayed to the angels         To keep me from harm — To the queen of the angels         To shield me from harm. And I lie so composedly,         Now, in my bed, (Knowing her love)         That you fancy me dead — And I rest so contentedly,         Now in my bed, (With her love at my breast)         That you fancy me dead — That you shudder to look at me,         Thinking me dead: — But my heart it is brighter         Than all of the many Stars in the sky,         For it sparkles with Annie — It glows with the light         Of the love of my Annie — With the thought of the light         Of the eyes of my Annie.

Энни

Бог сжалился – кризис         Уже позади! О, я это вынес —