Стихи и рассказы из категории april

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EN o'er the copses spring's soft hues are spreading,
High wave the reeds in the transparent floods,
The oak its sear and sallow foliage shedding,
From their moss'd cradles start its infant buds
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When the warm sun, that
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs    The first flower of the plain
I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
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April: Ægloga Quarta
Thenot & Hobbinoll
Thenot
Ell me good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greete
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April this year, not
Than April of a year ago,
Is full of whispers, full of sighs,
Of dazzling mud and dingy snow;
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The birds sang in the wet trees And I listened to them it was a hundred years from now And I was dead and someone else was listening to them
But I was glad I had recorded for him The melancholy
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Let the rain kiss
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid
Let the rain sing you a
The rain makes still pools on the
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