William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт)

* * *

I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.

'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among thy mountains did I feel
The joy of my desire;
And she I cherished turned her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed,
The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes surveyed. 

1. To a Highland Girl
2. Yarrow Revisited
3. The River Duddon (FROM this deep chasm, where quivering sunbeams play)
4. The River Eden, Cumberland
5. To ——, on Her First Ascent to the Summit of Helvellyn

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2585

Последние стихотворения

To English version