we smoking,

Silent and snug:

Naught passes between us,

Save a brown jug —

Sometimes!

And sometimes a tear

Will rise in each eye,

Seeing the two old friends

So merrily —

So merrily!

And ere to bed

Go we, go we,

Down on the ashes

We kneel on the knee,

Praying together!

Thus, then, live I

Till, ‘mid all the gloom,

By Heaven! the bold sun

Is with me in the room

Shining, shining!

Then the clouds part,

Swallows soaring between;

The spring is alive,

And the meadows are green!

I jump up like mad,

Break the old pipe in twain,

And away to the meadows,

The meadows again!

Chivalry At A Discount

Fair cousin mine! the golden days

Of old romance are over;

And minstrels now care naught for bays,

Nor damsels for a lover;

And hearts are cold, and lips are mute

That kindled once with passion,

And now we’ve neither lance nor lute,

And tilting’s out of fashion.

Yet weeping Beauty mourns the time

When Love found words in flowers;

When softest test sighs were breathed in rhyme,

And sweetest songs in bowers;

Now wedlock is a sober thing —

No more of chains or forges! —

A plain young man — a plain gold ring —

The curate — and St. George’s.

Then every cross-bow had a string,

And every heart a fetter;

And making love was quite the thing,

And making verses better;

And maiden-aunts were never seen,

And gallant beaux were plenty;

And lasses married at sixteen,

And died at one-and-twenty.

Then hawking was a noble sport,

And chess a pretty science;

And huntsmen learned to blow a morte,

And heralds a defiance;

And knights and spearmen showed their might,

And timid hinds took warning;

And hypocras was warmed at night,

And coursers in the morning.

Then plumes and pennons were prepared,

And patron-saints were lauded;

And noble deeds were bravely dared,

And noble dames applauded;

And Beauty played the leech’s part,

And wounds were healed with syrup;

And warriors sometimes lost a heart,

But never lost a stirrup.

Then there was no such thing as Fear,

And no such word as Reason;

And Faith was like a pointed spear,

And Fickleness was treason;

And hearts were soft, though blows were hard;

But when the fight was over,

A brimming goblet cheered the board,

His Lady’s smile the lover.

Ay, those were golden days! The moon

Had then her true adorers;

And there were lyres and lutes in tune,

And no such thing as snorers;

And lovers swam, and held at naught

Streams broader than the Mersey;

And fifty thousand would have fought

For a smile from Lady Jersey.

Then people wore an iron vest,

And bad no use for tailors;

And the artizans who lived the best

Were armorers and nailers;

And steel was measured by the ell

And trousers lined with leather;

And jesters wore a cap and bell,

And knights a cap and feather.

Then single folks might live at ease,

And married ones might sever;

Uncommon doctors had their fees,

But Doctor’s Commons never;

O! had we in those times been bred,

Fair cousin, for thy glances,

Instead of breaking Priscian’s head,

I had been breaking lances!

Эдвард Фицджеральд (1809–1883)

Старая песня

Грустно мне видеть,

      Как год умирает,

Пока под ветрами

      Лес голый вздыхает —

            Вздыхает, вздыхает!

В пору такую

      Запрусь я один

В комнате старой,

Где рдеет камин,

Жаркий камин!

Там я читаю

Весь день напролет

О рыцарях, дамах,

А ветер поет —

Уныло поет!

В окно обратить

Не желаю я взгляд:

Одно там увижу —

Как листья летят,

Падая, падая!

Я, как сверчок,

У камина примолк,

Читая про лето,

Про рыцарский долг —

Благороднейший долг!

Мы с другом старинным

Болтает вдвоем

О радостном нашем

И глупом былом —

Но радостном, радостном!

Иль для забавы

Затянем мы с ним

Напев, что звенел

По трущобам лесным,

По чаща лесным!

В молчанье мы курим,

Я и мой друг,

Лишь верный стакан

С нами делит досуг —

Порою!

И слезы порою

Текут из очей

При взгляде веселом

На старых друзей,

На верных друзей!

И перед сном,

В унылую мглу,

С ним на колени

Мы станем в золу

И молимся вместе!

Вот так я живу…

Но во дни непогод

Вдруг дерзкое солнце

В окошко войдет —

Весело, весело!

Вновь ласточки реют,

Рассеялась мгла,

Поля зеленеют,

Весна ожила!

Тут проворней вскочить

И трубку сломать —

И снова в поляны,