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The Swallow Pretty swallow, once again Come and pass me in the rain. Pretty swallow, why so shy? Pass again my window by. The horsepond where he dips his wings, The wet day prints it full of rings. The raindrops on his [ ] track Lodge like pearls upon his back. Then again he dips his wing In the wrinkles of the spring, Then oer the rushes flies again, And pearls roll off his back like rain. Pretty little swallow, fly Village doors and windows by, Whisking oer the garden pales Where the blackbird finds the snails; Whewing by the ladslove tree For something only seen by thee; Pearls that on the red rose hing Fall off shaken by thy wing. On that low thatched cottage stop, In the sooty chimney pop, Where thy wife and family Every evening wait for thee. John Clare's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2001 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |