 | Cleanth Brooks, Paul Rand - 1947 - 328 oldal
...for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing Mom, The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,...blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to list their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
 | Martin Gardner - 1992 - 226 oldal
...secret bow'r, Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each...blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
 | Brian Short - 1992 - 260 oldal
...secret bow'r. Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf "in many a mould'ring heap....blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
 | Robert L. Mack - 2000 - 768 oldal
...forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion...blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
 | Diane Ravitch, Michael Ravitch - 2006 - 512 oldal
...secret bow'r, Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each...blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
 | Nancy Bogen - 2007 - 426 oldal
...reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mold'ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude...blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.... | |
| |
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife... 
