Текст оригинала на английском языке Margaret Her eyes—upon a summer's day God's skies are not more blue than they. Her hair—you've seen a sunbeam bold Made up of just such threads of gold. Her cheek—the leaf which nearest grows The dewy heart of June's red rose. Her mouth—full lipped, and subtly sweet As brier drowned in summer heat. Her heart—December's chill and snow; Heaven pity me, who love her so! |
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