Читать книгу The Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell - James Russell Lowell - Страница 76

There was no beauty of the wood or field

But she its fragrant bosom-secret knew,

Nor any but to her would freely yield

Some grace that in her soul took root and grew;

Nature to her shone as but now revealed,

All rosy-fresh with innocent morning dew,

And looked into her heart with dim, sweet eyes

That left it full of sylvan memories. 40