 | Ian Crofton - 2002 - 568 oldal
[ Sajnáljuk, az oldal tartalma korlátozott hozzáférésű. ] | |
 | Richard Yates - 2002 - 356 oldal
...time there was no pleasure in it. All she could think of was another poem Willard Slade had liked: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn . . . Well, she was sick for home, all right;... | |
 | Dannie Abse - 2003 - 264 oldal
[ Sajnáljuk, az oldal tartalma korlátozott hozzáférésű. ] | |
 | Anna Adams - 2003 - 216 oldal
[ Sajnáljuk, az oldal tartalma korlátozott hozzáférésű. ] | |
 | Larry Sider, Jerry Sider, Diane Freeman - 2003 - 260 oldal
...colour photographs or on supermarket shelves. Next, from the closing stanzas of 'Ode to a Nightingale': The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient...amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas in faerie lands forlorn. Forlorn! The... | |
 | J. Beer - 2003 - 228 oldal
[ Sajnáljuk, az oldal tartalma korlátozott hozzáférésű. ] | |
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Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick... 
