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Nature’s Law Great Nature spoke, with air benign, ‘Go on, ye human race! This lower world I you resign; Be fruitful and increase. The liquid fire of strong desire I’ve pour’d it in each bosom; Here, on this hand, does mankind stand, And there is Beauty’s blossom!’ The Hero of these artless strains, A lowly Bard was he, Who sung his rhymes in Coila’s plains With meikie mirth an’ glee; Kind Nature’s care had given his share, Large, of the flaming current; And, all devout, he never sought To stem the sacred torrent. He felt the powerful, high behest, Thrill, vital, thro’ and thro’; And sought a correspondent breast To give obedience due; Propitious Powers screen’d the young flow’rs, From mildews of abortion; And lo! the bard, a great reward, Has got a double portion! Sonnet 20 (William Shakespeare) A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion; An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; A man in hue, all hues in his controlling, Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth. And for a woman wert thou first created, Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting, And by addition me of thee defeated, By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure, Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure. The Gladness of Nature (William Bryant) Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily by. The clouds are at play in the azure space And their shadows at play on the bright-green vale, And here they stretch to the frolic chase, And there they roll on the easy gale. There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, On the leaping waters and gay young isles; Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away. **** (Emily Dickinson) Nature — the Gentlest Mother is, Impatient of no Child — The feeblest — or the waywardest — Her Admonition mild — In Forest — and the Hill — By Traveller — be heard — Restraining Rampant Squirrel — Or too impetuous Bird — How fair Her Conversation — A Summer Afternoon — Her Household — Her Assembly — And when the Sun go down — Her Voice among the Aisles Incite the timid prayer Of the minutest Cricket — The most unworthy Flower — When all the Children sleep — She turns as long away As will suffice to light Her lamps — Then bending from the Sky — With infinite Affection — And infiniter Care — Her Golden finger on Her lip — Wills Silence — Everywhere — Nature (Henry Longfellow) As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant to be led, And leave his broken playthings on the floor, Still gazing at them through the open door, Nor wholly reassured and comforted By promises of others in their stead, Which though more splendid, may not please him more; So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so gently, that we go Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay, Being too full of sleep to understand How far the unknown transcends the what we know. Amends to Nature (Arthur Symons) I have loved colours, and not flowers; Their motion, not the swallows wings; And wasted more than half my hours Without the comradeship of things. How is it, now, that I can see, With love and wonder and delight, The children of the hedge and tree, The little lords of day and night? How is it that I see the roads, No longer with usurping eyes, A twilight meeting-place for toads, A mid-day mart for butterflies? I feel, in every midge that hums, Life, fugitive and infinite, And suddenly the world becomes A part of me and I of it.
Закон Природы (Роберт Бёрнс) Нам землю отдала во власть Великая Природа И молвила: «Живите всласть, Плодитесь год из года! Живите всласть! Огонь и страсть Влагаю в человека, И пусть на том стоит ваш дом Отныне и до века!» Создатель этих скромных строк И житель Ко́йлы древней Старался сделать их, как мог, И ярче, и напевней. Кипел, могуч, природы ключ На творческом просторе. По мере сил певец творил, С течением не споря. Природы чувствуя завет Всегда, везде и всюду, Непрекословящий Поэт Творил, покорный чуду. Цветы хранит от злых обид Защитница благая. В союзе с ней вдвойне сильней Певец родного края!источник
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