Apie šią knygą
Mano biblioteka
Knygos „Google Play“
There gentle Allston lived, and wrought, and died,
Or when the close-wedged fields of ice Transfiguring street and shop with his illu
crunch here and there.
But let me turn from fancy-pictured
scenes
To that whose pastoral calm before me lies: Here nothing harsh or rugged inter
venes;
mined gaze.