 | Leigh Hunt - 1820 - 432 pàgines
...verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways» 1 cannot see what (lowers are at my feet, * Nor what soft ineeuse hangs upon the boughs« But, in embalmed darkness,...wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine i Fast fading violets cover'd up in. leaves; I . And mid-May's eldest child, ; The coming meek-rose,... | |
 | 1820 - 606 pàgines
...retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen- Moon is on her throne, ClusterM around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor «bat soft incense hangs upon the Änghs, But, in embalmed... | |
 | 1823 - 400 pàgines
...to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the doll brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee! tender...wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast fading violets covered up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full... | |
 | Vicesimus Knox - 1825 - 404 pàgines
[ El contingut d’aquesta pàgina està restringit ] | |
 | John Keats - 1926 - 730 pàgines
[ El contingut d’aquesta pàgina està restringit ] | |
 | 1826 - 638 pàgines
[ El contingut d’aquesta pàgina està restringit ] | |
 | William Hone - 1827 - 858 pàgines
...retards : Already with thee 1 tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is...blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 5. 1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed... | |
 | John Keats - 1926 - 738 pàgines
[ El contingut d’aquesta pàgina està restringit ] | |
 | William Hone - 1826 - 876 pàgines
[ El contingut d’aquesta pàgina està restringit ] | |
 | Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 500 pàgines
...retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry fays ; But here there is...wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine, Fast fading violets covered up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose full of... | |
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I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket... 
