"Hol a hazád, mondd, madár!
s este milyen tanya vár?
Milyen fészek, milyen lomb?
Ó te rétek dísze, mondd!"
"Áll egy szép fa társtalan:
ott busúlok egymagam.
Hajnal issza könnyemet,
este nem hoz örömet."
"Én meg téged kivánlak,
...
"Hol a hazád, mondd, madár!
s este milyen tanya vár?
Milyen fészek, milyen lomb?
Ó te rétek dísze, mondd!"
"Áll egy szép fa társtalan:
ott busúlok egymagam.
Hajnal issza könnyemet,
este nem hoz örömet."
"Én meg téged kivánlak,
...
Nem jobb gyönyörre kelni fel,
Mint űzni éjen át?
S nappal az ifju, hév gyönyör
Tán szégyellné magát?
A kor s a kór mustrálja csak
A kertet éjen át;
Amíg hevít ifjú erőd,
Nappal tarold a fát.
(Gergely Ágnes)
He who bends to himself a joy
Does the wingèd life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sunrise.
If you trap the moment before it is ripe,
The tears of repentance you ’ll certainly wipe;
But if once you let the ripe...
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burned the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize...
Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:—
“Pipe a song about a lamb:”
So I piped with merry cheer.
“Piper, pipe that song again:”
So I piped; he wept to hear.
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life & bid thee feed
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?...
A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said "I've a pretty rose tree,"
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my rose turned away with jealousy,
And her...
I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.
Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the...
Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,
Ah! she did...