THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness...
A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley]. - Стр. 1
авторы: Collection - 1755
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