Текст оригинала на английском языке
To More Adey SUMMER lightning, and rich rain: Roses perfume the hot air. All the breathless night is faint, All the flowery night is fair. Philomel her joy or plaint Sings, and sings, and sings again. What comes now? The earth awaits What fierce wonder from the skies? Thunder, trampling through the night? Morning, with illustrious eyes? Morning, from the springs of light: Thunder, round Heaven's opening gates.
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