(no subject)

[tinedel]

нашел чудесное:
Ode to an Old Fiddle
From the Musical World of London (1834);
1
The poor fiddler’s ode to his old fiddle

Torn
Worn
Oppressed I mourn
B a d
S a d
Three-quarters mad
Money gone
Credit none
Duns at door
Half a score
Wife in lain
Twins again
Others ailing
Nurse a railing
Billy hooping
Betsy crouping
Besides poor Joe
With fester’d toe.
Come, then, my Fiddle,
Come, my time-worn friend,
With gay and brilliant sounds
Some sweet tho’ transient solace lend,
Thy polished neck in close embrace
I clasp, whilst joy illumines my face.
When o’er thy strings I draw my bow,
My drooping spirit pants to rise;
A lively strain I touch—and, lo!
I seem to mount above the skies.
There on Fancy’s wing I soar
Heedless of the duns at door;
Oblivious all, I feel my woes no more;
But skip o’er the strings,
As my old Fiddle sings,
“Cheerily oh! merrily go!
“Presto! good master,
“You very well know
“I will find Music,
“If you will find bow,
“From E, up in alto, to G, down below.”
Fatigued, I pause to change the time
For some Adagio, solemn and sublime.
With graceful action moves the sinuous arm;
My heart, responsive to the soothing charm,
Throbs equably; whilst every health-corroding care
Lies prostrate, vanquished by the soft mellifluous air.
More andmore plaintive grown,my eyeswith tears o’erflow,
And Resignation mild soon smooths my wrinkled brow.
Reedy Hautboy may squeak, wailing Flauto may squall,
The Serpent may grunt, and the Trombone may bawl;
But, by Poll, my old Fiddle’s the prince of them all.
Could e’en Dryden return, thy praise to rehearse,
His Ode to Cecilia would seem rugged verse.
Now to thy case, in flannel warm to lie,
Till call’d again to pipe thymaster’s eye.
Apollo.

В пдф-ке в которой я это нашел отформатировано лучше и стих гораздо больше напоминает скрипку

Comments

[ispanetz.livejournal.com]

класссс!! :)

[tinedel]

[важно прохаживается]