 | William Wordsworth - 1800 - 272 стор.
...Armed Man, The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listen'd to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My Hope, my Joy,...whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1800 - 270 стор.
...Armed Man, The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listen'd to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My Hope, my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er 1 sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1802 - 280 стор.
...Genevieve ! The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listen'd to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My Hope, my Joy,...whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1802 - 282 стор.
...Armed Man, The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listen'd to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own,' My Hope, my Joy,...whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story—- An old rude Song that fitted well... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1802 - 356 стор.
...Had blended with the Lights of Eve-, And she was there, my Hope, my Joy, My own dear Genevieve! ' . Few sorrows hath she of her own,. My Hope! my Joy!...best, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. Iplay'da soft and doleful Air, I.sang an old and moving Story— An old rude Song that fitted .well... | |
 | William Wordsworth - 1805 - 284 стор.
...Armed Man, The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listened to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My Hope, my Joy,...an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest... | |
 | William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1805 - 284 стор.
...Armed Man, The Statue of the Armed Knight : She stood and listened to my Harp Amid the ling'ring Light. Few Sorrows hath she of her own, My Hope, my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me bast, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful Air, I sang an old... | |
 | 1820 - 774 стор.
...armed man, The statue of the armed knight ; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own. My hope ! my joy...whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story— An old rude song, that suited well... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1817 - 334 стор.
...man, The statue of the armed knight ; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. 119 Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy!...whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1817 - 330 стор.
...my- joy! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story...song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could not... | |
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Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. 
