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Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Autumn by the Sea Still on the sand and shingle gleams the sun; Still an unclouded heaven arches o'er; And still the languid billows roll and run Down all the lengths of shore. Still there are hints of summer in the air, A sense of restfulness, of rapt repose; And from remote sea gardens, lush and fair, Rich attars like the rose. Still a soft haze of delicate hyacinth Broods o'er the sky-line, floating faint and far; Still on the edge of night's vast labyrinth Shines the clear vesper-star. Soon, all too soon, the spindrift and the spume, The legions of the surge that fleetly form; The gray, illimitable wastes of gloom— The thunderous caves of storm! Clinton Scollard's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1196 |
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