Show me dear Christ, thy spouse so bright and clear.What! is it she which on the other shoreGoes richly painted? or which, robb’d and tore,Laments and mourns in Germany and here?Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year?Is she self-truth, and errs? now new, now outwore?Doth she, and did she, and shall she evermoreOn one, on seven, or on no hill appear?Dwells she with us, or like adventuring knightsFirst travel we to seek, and then make love?Betray, kind husband, thy spouse to our sights,And let mine amorous soul court thy mild Dove,Who is most true and pleasing to thee thenWhen she’is embrac’d and open to most men.
18. Церковь
Яви свою невесту, Иисус,В сиянии и блеске! Не она лиУкрасила чужбину, но в печалиНа родине влачит страданий груз.За сотни лет, никак не разберусьУверена в себе, или блуждает?Нова, стара? С семи холмов сияет?Но если не с холмов, не удивлюсь.Она при нас? Иль, странствуя, должныПо – рыцарски искать её любви?Супруг открой нам лик своей жены,В полёт к своей голубке вдохнови, —Она одна, не совершая грех,Верна тебе, держа в объятьях всех.
Holy Sonnet 19
Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one:Inconstancy unnaturally hath begotA constant habit; that when I would notI change in vows, and in devotion.As humorous is my contritionAs my profane love, and as soon forgot:As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot,As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.I durst not view heaven yesterday; and todayIn prayers and flattering speeches I court God:Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod.So my devout fits come and go awayLike a fantastic ague; save that hereThose are my best days, when I shake with fear.
19. Покаяние
Противоречия взялись меня терзать,Во мне, рождая подлость и коварство.Я, от природы, чтивший постоянство,Стал благостным обетам изменять.Раскаянье, как и любовь моя,Приносят мне не радость, а мытарства.В них холод, жар, страдая, как от пьянства,Мольбы и клятвы забываю я.Вчера не льстил я небесам мольбой,Сегодня умоляю о вниманье,А завтра жду от Бога наказанье,Приливы веры, как прибой – отбойГорячки вздорной; но одно я знаю,Страх тем слабей, чем больше я страдаю.
Избранное. Love’s Alchemy
Some that have deeper digged love’s mine than I,Say, where his centric happiness doth lie;I have loved, and got and told,But should I love, get, tell, till I were old,I should not find that hidden mystery;Oh, ‘tis imposture all:And as no chemic yet the elixir got,But glorifies his pregnant pot,If by the way to him befallSome odoriferous thing, or medicinal,So lovers dream a rich and long delight,But get a winter-seeming summer’s night.Our ease, our thrift, our honour and our day,Shall we, for this ain bubble’ shadow pay?Ends love on this, that my man,Can be as happy as I canEndure the sort scorn of a bridegroom’s play?That loving wretch that swears,Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,Which he in her angelic finds,Wouldswear as justly, that he hears,In that day’s rude hoarse minstrelsy, the spheres.Hope not for mind in women; at their bestSweetness and wit, they are but mummy, possessed.
