Уильям Вордсворт (William Wordsworth)
Текст оригинала на английском языке
In the Channel, between the Coast of Cumberland and the Isle of Man
RANGING the heights of Scawfell or Black-comb, In his lone course the shepherd oft will pause, And strive to fathom the mysterious laws By which the clouds, arrayed in light or gloom, On Mona settle, and the shapes assume Of all her peaks and ridges. What he draws From sense, faith, reason, fancy, of the cause, He will take with him to the silent tomb. Or, by his fire, a child upon his knee, Haply the untaught philosopher may speak Of the strange sight, nor hide his theory That satisfies the simple and the meek, Blest in their pious ignorance, though weak To cope with sages undevoutly free.
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