The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
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... And sometime like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook ; Or by a cider - press , with patient look , Thou watchest the last oozings , hours by hours . Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay , where are they ?
... And sometime like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook ; Or by a cider - press , with patient look , Thou watchest the last oozings , hours by hours . Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay , where are they ?
Сторінка 15
Ye cannot raise My head cool - bedded in the flowery grass ; For I would not be dieted with praise , A pet - lamb in a sentimental farce ! Fade softly from my eyes , and be once more In masque - like figures on the dreamy urn ; Farewell ...
Ye cannot raise My head cool - bedded in the flowery grass ; For I would not be dieted with praise , A pet - lamb in a sentimental farce ! Fade softly from my eyes , and be once more In masque - like figures on the dreamy urn ; Farewell ...
Сторінка 33
So the two brothers and their murder'd man Rode past fair Florence , to where Arno's stream Gurgles through straighten'd banks , and still doth fan Itself with dancing bulrush , and the bream Keeps head against the freshets .
So the two brothers and their murder'd man Rode past fair Florence , to where Arno's stream Gurgles through straighten'd banks , and still doth fan Itself with dancing bulrush , and the bream Keeps head against the freshets .
Сторінка 36
Red whortle - berries droop above my head , And a large flint - stone weighs upon my feet ; Around me beeches and high chestnuts shed Their leaves and prickly nuts ; a sheep - fold bleat Comes from beyond ...
Red whortle - berries droop above my head , And a large flint - stone weighs upon my feet ; Around me beeches and high chestnuts shed Their leaves and prickly nuts ; a sheep - fold bleat Comes from beyond ...
Сторінка 38
... And they had found Lorenzo's earthy bed ; The flint was there , the berries at his head . 1 XLV . Who hath not loiter'd in a green 38 ISABELLA.
... And they had found Lorenzo's earthy bed ; The flint was there , the berries at his head . 1 XLV . Who hath not loiter'd in a green 38 ISABELLA.
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