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Meet Me in the Green Glen Love, meet me in the green glen, Beside the tall elm-tree, Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen; There come with me. Meet me in the green glen. Meet me at the sunset Down in the green glen, Where we’ve often met By hawthorn-tree and foxes’ den, Meet me in the green glen. Meet me in the green glen, By sweetbriar bushes there; Meet me by your own sen, Where the wild thyme blossoms fair. Meet me in the green glen. Meet me by the sweetbriar, By the mole-hill swelling there; When the west glows like a fire God’s crimson bed is there. Meet me in the green glen. John Clare's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1840 |
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