Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages - Various - Страница 113

The wanton Troopers riding by

Have shot my Fawn, and it will dye.

Ungentlemen! they cannot thrive

Who killed thee. Thou ne'er didst alive

Them any Harm: alas! nor cou'd

Thy Death yet do them any Good ...

For it was full of sport, and light

Of foot and heart, and did invite

Me to its game; it seemed to bless

Itself in me; how could I less

Than love it? O, I cannot be

Unkind to a beast that loveth me ...

With sweetest Milk, and Sugar, first

I it at mine own Fingers nurst;

And as it grew, so every Day

It waxed more white and sweet than they.

It had so sweet a Breath! And oft

I blushed to see its Foot more soft,

And white (shall I say than my Hand?)

Nay, any Ladie's of the Land.

It is a wond'rous Thing how fleet

'Twas on those little Silver Feet;

With what a pretty skipping Grace,

It oft would challenge me the Race;

And when 't had left me far away,

'Twould stay, and run again, and stay;

For it was nimbler much than Hindes,

And trod as if on the Four Winds.

I have a Garden of my own,

But so with Roses over-grown,

And Lillies, that you would it guess

To be a little Wilderness;

And all the Spring Time of the Year

It only lovèd to be there.

Among the Beds of Lillies I

Have sought it oft, where it should lye;

Yet could not, till it self would rise,

Find it, although before mine Eyes:

For, in the flaxen Lillies' Shade,

It like a Bank of Lillies laid.

Upon the Roses it would feed,

Until its Lips ev'n seemed to bleed;

And then to me 'twould boldly trip,

And print those Roses on my Lip.

But all its chief Delight was still

On Roses thus itself to fill,

And its pure Virgin Limbs to fold

In whitest sheets of Lillies cold:

Had it lived long, it would have been

Lillies without, Roses within....

Andrew Marvell

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