Стихи и поэмы

Now glowing with hopes and now fever'd with fears,
Each maid or triumphant, or jealous, appears,
As noticed by him, or pass'd by.

And now as the evening approach'd, to the ball
In anxious suspense they advance,
Hoping each on herself that the King's choice might fall,
When lo! to the utter confusion of all,
He ask'd the Archbishop to dance.

The damsels they laugh, and the barons they stare,
'Twas mirth and astonishment all;
And the Archbishop started, and mutter'd a prayer,
And, wroth at receiving such mockery there,
In haste he withdrew from the hall.

The moon dimpled over the water with light
As he wander'd along the lake side;
But the King had pursued, and o'erjoyed at his sight,
'Oh turn thee, Archbishop, my joy and delight,
Oh turn thee, my charmer,' he cried;

'Oh come where the feast and the dance and the song
Invite thee to mirth and to love;
Or at this happy moment away from the throng
To the shade of yon wood let us hasten along, .
The moon never pierces that grove.'

As thus by new madness the King seem'd possest,
In new wonder the Archbishop heard;
Then Charlemain warmly and eagerly prest
The good old man's poor wither'd hand to his breast
And kiss'd his long grey grizzle beard.

'Let us well then these fortunate moments employ!'
Cried the Monarch with passionate tone:
'Come away then, dear charmer, . my angel, . my joy,
Nay struggle not now, . 'tis in vain to be coy, .
And remember that we are alone.'

'Blessed Mary, protect me!' the Archbishop cried;
'What madness has come to the King!'
In vain to escape from the Monarch he tried,
When luckily he on his finger espied
The glitter of Agatha's ring.

Overjoy'd, the good prelate remember'd the spell,
And far in the lake flung the ring;
The waters closed round it, and wondrous to tell,
Released from the cursed enchantment of hell,
His reason return'd to the King.

But he built him a palace there close by the bay,
And there did he love to remain;
And the traveller who will, may behold at this day
A monument still in the ruins at Aix
Of the spell that possess'd Charlemain.

Bath, 1797.

Баллада о том, как королева Мария дала имя своему сыну[17]

1.
Королева Мария заботы полна
 (Эта — первая в списке забот):
Сына — сына родить королева должна,
 Что престол арагонский займёт!

2.
Ко святым сторожам неземных этажей
 Обратилась, надежды полна,
Но двенадцать Апостолов, Божьих мужей,
 Особливо просила она.

3.
И (вторая из тех, что Марию гнетут
 В нескончаемом списке забот):
Пусть наследнику имя 'Иаков' дадут, —
 Королю оно очень идёт!