Henry Kirke White (Генри Керк Уайт)

Melody

Yes, once more that dying strain,
Anna, touch thy lute for me;
Sweet, when pity's tones complain,
Doubly sweet is melody.

While the Virtues thus enweave
Mildly soft the thrilling song,
Winter's long and lonesome eve
Glides unfelt, unseen, along.

Thus when life hath stolen away,
And the wintry night is near,
Thus shall virtue's friendly ray
Age's closing evening, cheer.

1. On Being Confined to School One Pleasant Morning in Spring
2. A Hymn for Family Worship
3. Lines Written in Wilford Churchyard on Recovery from Sickness
4. Inscription for a Monument to the Memory of Cowper
5. To an Early Primrose

John Cunningham (Джон Каннингем) Melody ("Lightsome as convey'd by sparrows")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1772

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