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William Collins (Уильям Коллинз) Ode, Written in the Beginning of the Year 1746 HOW sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell, a weeping hermit, there! William Collins's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1536 |
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