Какое ваше самое любимое стихотворение на английском языке?

"Ворон" По в разных переводах, http://langust.ru/etc/lear.shtml

she walks in beauty

An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog /by Oliver Goldsmith/

Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,
It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man,
Of whom the world might say
That still a godly race he ran,
Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad,
When he put on his clothes.

And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Both mongrel, puppy, whelp and hound,
And curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first were friends;
But when a pique began,
The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad and bit the man.

Around from all the neighbouring streets
The wondering neighbours ran,
And swore the dog had lost his wits,
To bite so good a man.

The wound it seemed both sore and sad
To every Christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.

But soon a wonder came to light,
That showed the rogues they lied:
The man recovered of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

To our fore the harbour lights
Shining out like beacons burning
They can stop this endless night
They can stop the wheels from turning

Faces in a setting sun
Say again that we soon will be one

Edgar Allen Poe “Raven”

“Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore.”
Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore.’”

I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies\' skirts across the grass-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did
But always you youself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see youself at all-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

Стивенсон, "Ветер"