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William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) A Rustic Seat near the Sea To him, who, many a night upon the main, At mid-watch, from the bounding vessel's side, Shivering, has listened to the rocking tide, Oh, how delightful smile thy views again, Fair Land! the sheltered hut, and far-seen mill That safe sails round and round; the tripping rill That o'er the gray sand glitters; the clear sky, Beneath whose blue vault shines the village tower, That high elms, swaying in the wind, embower; And hedge-rows, where the small birds' melody Solace the lithe and loitering peasant lad! O Stranger! is thy pausing fancy sad At thought of many evils which do press On wide humanity!--Look up; address The GOD who made the world; but let thy heart Be thankful, though some heavy thoughts have part, That, sheltered from the human storms' career, Thou meetest innocence and quiet here. William Lisle Bowles's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1261 |
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