По Эдгар Аллан
«Лирика»

Disconsolate linger - grief that hangs her head,

Repenting follies that full long have fled,

Heaving her white breast to the balmy air,

Like guilty beauty, chasten'd, and more fair:

Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light

She fears to perfume, perfuming the night:

And Clytia pondering between many a sun,

While pettish tears adown her petals run:

And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth

And died, ere scarce exalted into birth,

Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing

Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king:

And Valisnerian lotus thither flown

From struggling with the waters of the Rhone:

And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante!

Isola d'oro! - Fior di Levante!

And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever

With Indian Cupid down the holy river

Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given

To bear the Goddess' song, in odors, up to Heaven:

"Spirit! that tlwellest where,

In the deep sky,

The terrible and fair,

In beauty vie!

Beyond the line of blue

The boundary of the star

Which turneth at the view

Of thy barrier and thy bar

Of the barrier overgone

By the comets who were cast

From their pride, and from their throne

To be drudges till the last

To be carriers of fire

(The red fire of their heart)

With speed that may not tire

And with pain that shall not part

Who livest - _that_ we know

In Eternity - we feel

But the shadow of whose brow

What spirit shall reveal?

Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace,

Thy messenger hath known

Have dream'd for thy Infinity

A model of their own

Thy will is done. Oh, God!

The star hath ridden high

Thro' many a tempest, but she rode

Beneath