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John Drinkwater (Джон Дринквотер) Deer SHY in their herding dwell the fallow deer. They are spirits of wild sense. Nobody near Comes upon their pastures. There a life they live, Of sufficient beauty, phantom, fugitive, Treading as in jungles free leopards do, Printless as evelight, instant as dew. The great kine are patient, and home-coming sheep Know our bidding. The fallow deer keep Delicate and far their counsels wild, Never to be folded reconciled To the spoiling hand as the poor flocks are; Lightfoot, and swift, and unfamiliar, These you may not hinder, unconfined Beautiful flocks of the mind. John Drinkwater's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1497 |
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