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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=458952" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sirena</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">NEAR to the silver Trent <br> SIRENA dwelleth; <br>She to whom Nature lent <br> All that excelleth; <br>By which the Muses late <br> And the neat Graces <br>Have for their greater state <br> Taken their places; <br>Twisting an anadem <br> Wherewith to crown her, <br>As it belong'd to them <br> Most to renown her. <br> On thy bank, <br> In a rank, <br> Let thy swans sing her, <br> And with their music <br> Along let them bring her. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tagus and Pactolus <br> Are to thee debtor, <br>Nor for their gold to us <br> Are they the better: <br>Henceforth of all the rest <br> Be thou the River <br>Which, as the daintiest, <br> Puts them down ever. <br>For as my precious one <br> O'er thee doth travel, <br>She to pearl paragon <br> Turneth thy gravel. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our mournful Philomel, <br> That rarest tuner, <br>Henceforth in Aperil <br> Shall wake the sooner, <br>And to her shall complain <br> From the thick cover, <br>Redoubling every strain <br> Over and over: <br>For when my Love too long <br> Her chamber keepeth, <br>As though it suffer'd wrong, <br> The Morning weepeth. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oft have I seen the Sun, <br> To do her honour, <br>Fix himself at his noon <br> To look upon her; <br>And hath gilt every grove, <br> Every hill near her, <br>With his flames from above <br> Striving to cheer her: <br>And when she from his sight <br> Hath herself turned, <br>He, as it had been night, <br> In clouds hath mourned. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The verdant meads are seen, <br> When she doth view them, <br>In fresh and gallant green <br> Straight to renew them; <br>And every little grass <br> Broad itself spreadeth, <br>Proud that this bonny lass <br> Upon it treadeth: <br>Nor flower is so sweet <br> In this large cincture, <br>But it upon her feet <br> Leaveth some tincture. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fishes in the flood, <br> When she doth angle, <br>For the hook strive a-good <br> Them to entangle; <br>And leaping on the land, <br> From the clear water, <br>Their scales upon the sand <br> Lavishly scatter; <br>Therewith to pave the mould <br> Whereon she passes, <br>So herself to behold <br> As in her glasses. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When she looks out by night, <br> The stars stand gazing, <br>Like comets to our sight <br> Fearfully blazing; <br>As wond'ring at her eyes <br> With their much brightness, <br>Which so amaze the skies, <br> Dimming their lightness. <br>The raging tempests are calm <br> When she speaketh, <br>Such most delightsome balm <br> From her lips breaketh. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In all our Brittany <br> There 's not a fairer, <br>Nor can you fit any <br> Should you compare her. <br>Angels her eyelids keep, <br> All hearts surprising; <br>Which look whilst she doth sleep <br> Like the sun's rising: <br>She alone of her kind <br> Knoweth true measure, <br>And her unmatched mind <br> Is heaven's treasure. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fair Dove and Darwen clear, <br> Boast ye your beauties, <br>To Trent your mistress here <br> Yet pay your duties: <br>My Love was higher born <br> Tow'rds the full fountains, <br>Yet she doth moorland scorn <br> And the Peak mountains; <br>Nor would she none should dream <br> Where she abideth, <br>Humble as is the stream <br> Which by her slideth. <br> On thy bank... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet my pour rustic Muse <br> Nothing can move her, <br>Nor the means I can use, <br> Though her true lover: <br>Many a long winter's night <br> Have I waked for her, <br>Yet this my piteous plight <br> Nothing can stir her. <br>All thy sands, silver Trent, <br> Down to the Humber, <br>The sighs that I have spent <br> Never can number. <br> On thy bank, <br> In a rank, <br> Let thy swans sing her, <br> And with their music <br> Along let them bring her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Drayton">Michael Drayton</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=458952" data-title="Sirena de Michael Drayton" data-description="NEAR to the silver Trent SIRENA dwelleth; She to whom Nature lent All that excelleth; By which the Muses late And the neat Graces Have for their greater state Taken the..."></div> </div> </div>
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