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" But here there is no light Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs... "
The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ... - Сторінка 315
1820
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Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, Том 2

Mary Russell Mitford - 1853
...Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket,...
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Chambers's Pocket Miscellany, Том 3

1854
...is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the houghs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass,...
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Chambers's Pocket Miscellany, Томи 5 – 6

1854
...is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feot, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith...
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The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New

Susan Fenimore Cooper - 1854 - 428 стор.
...is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons, ...

Mary Botham Howitt - 1854 - 567 стор.
...is the night, And haply the queen-moon ia on her throne, ClustiT'il around by all her starry fay»; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Beauties of the British Poets, with a Few Introd. Observations

George Croly (Rev., ed) - 1854
...is the night, And haply the Queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons, ...

Mary Botham Howitt - 1854 - 567 стор.
...Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket,...
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The Poetical Works of John Keats

John Keats - 1855 - 350 стор.
...is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs But, in embalmed...
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Recollections of a Literary Life

Mary Russell Mitford - 1855 - 558 стор.
...is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways, I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense bangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New

Susan Fenimore Cooper - 1855 - 428 стор.
...is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I can not see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed...
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