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PREBERI MI

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STRANGE fits of passion have I known:And I will dare to tell, But in the Lover's ear alone, What once to me befell.
When she I loved looked every day Fresh as a rose in June, I to her cottage bent my way, Beneath and evening moon
Upon the moon I fixed my eye, All over the wide lea; With quickening pace my horse drew nigh Those paths so dear to me.
And now we reached the orchard-plot; And, as we climbed the hill, The sinking moon to Lucy's cot Came near, and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept, Kind Nature's gentlest boon! And all the while my eyes I kept On the descending moon
My horse moved on; hoof after hoof He raised, and never stopped: When down behind the cottage roof, At once, the bright moon dropped.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a Lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!"
SHE dwelt among the untrodden way s Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference is me!
A slumber did my sprit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor see; Rolled round in earth's dinural course, With rocks and stones and trees.

Ustvarjenih več kot 30 milijonov snemalnih knjig