Английская поэзия XIV–XX веков в современных русских переводах

‘Twas in a cool Aonian glade,

The wanton Cupid, spent with toil,

Had sought refreshment from the shade,

And stretch’d him on the mossy soil.

A vagrant Muse drew nigh, and found

The subtle traitor fast asleep;

And is it thine to snore profound,

She said, yet leave the world to weep?

But hush! — from this auspicious hour

The world, I ween, may rest in peace,

And, robb’d of darts, and stript of power,

Thy peevish petulance decrease.

Sleep on, poor Child! whilst I withdraw,

And this thy vile artillery hide —

When the Castalian fount she saw,

And plunged his arrows in the tide.

That magic fount,ill-judging maid,

Shall cause you soon to curse the day

You dared the shafts of Love invade,

And gave his arms redoubled sway.

For in a stream so wondrous clear,

When angry Cupid searches round,

Will not the radiant points appear?

Will not the furtive spoils be found?

Too soon they were; and every dart.

Dipt in the Muse’s mystic spring,

Acquired new force to wound the heart,

And taught at once to love and sing.

Then farewell, ye Pierian quire!

For who will now your altars throng?

From Love we learn to swell the lyre,

And Echo asks no sweeter song.

To thee, fair freedom! I retire,

From flattery, feasting, dice and din;

Nor art thou found in domes much higher

Than the lone cot or humble Inn.

’Tis here with boundless power I reign,

And every health which I begin,

Converts dull port to bright champagne;

For Freedom crowns it, at an Inn.

I fly from pomp, I fly from plate,

I fly from falsehood’s specious grin;

Freedom I love, and form I hate,

And choose my lodgings at an Inn.

Here, waiter! take my sordid ore,

Which lacqueys else might hope to win;

It buys what Courts have not in store,

It buys me Freedom, at an Inn.

And now once more I shape my way

Through rain or shine, through thick or thin,

Secure to meet, at close of day,

With kind reception at an Inn.

Whoe’er has travell’d life’s dull round,

Where’er his stages may have been,

May sigh to think how oft he found

The warmest welcome — at an Inn.