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William Blake (Уильям Блейк)


The Birds


He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,
Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;
Where thou thy charming nest dost build,
O thou pride of every field!
She. Yonder stands a lonely tree,
There I live and mourn for thee;
Morning drinks my silent tear,
And evening winds my sorrow bear.

He. O thou summer's harmony,
I have liv'd and mourn'd for thee;
Each day I mourn along the wood,
And night hath heard my sorrows loud.

She. Dost thou truly long for me?
And am I thus sweet to thee?
Sorrow now is at an end,
O my Lover and my Friend!

He. Come, on wings of joy we'll fly
To where my bower hangs on high;
Come, and make thy calm retreat
Among green leaves and blossoms sweet. 



William Blake's other poems:
  1. To Thomas Butts
  2. The Fairy
  3. The Invocation
  4. Ah, Sunflower
  5. О чибис! Ты видишь внизу пустопольеO Lapwing! Thou Fliest around the Heath


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1636



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