Samuel Johnson (Ñýìþýë Äæîíñîí)

Lines

Wheresoe'er I turn my view,
All is strange, yet nothing new;
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrase that time has flung away,
Uncouth words in disarray,
Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode, and elegy, and sonnet. 

1. To Myrtilis - The New Year's Offering
2. On The Death Of Stephen Grey, F.R.S.
3. To Mrs. Thrale On Her Completing Her Thirty-Fifth Year
4. On Hearing Miss Thrale Consulting with a Friend About a Gown and Hat
5. To Miss --

Robert Burns (Ðîáåðò Á¸ðíñ) Lines ("I MURDER hate by field or flood")

Ðàñïå÷àòàòü ñòèõîòâîðåíèå (Poem to print)

Êîëè÷åñòâî îáðàùåíèé ê ñòèõîòâîðåíèþ: 886

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