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Summer Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead: The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, Healthful and strong; full as the summer-rose Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid, Half naked, swelling on the sight, and all Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek. E'en stooping age is here; and infant hands Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load O'ercharged, amid the kind oppression roll. Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a row Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field, They spread the breathing harvest to the sun, That throws refreshful round a rural smell: Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, And drive the dusky wave along the mead, The russet hay-cock rises thick behind, In order gay. While heard from dale to dale, Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice Of happy labour, love, and social glee. James Thomson's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Тема стихотворения (Poem Theme): Summer (Лето) Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2167 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |