Читать книгу Sapphic Classics - Sappho - Страница 54

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When I behold the pharos shine

And lay a path along the sea,

How gladly I shall feel the spray,

Standing upon the swinging prow;

And question of my pilot old, 5

How many watery leagues to sail

Ere we shall round the harbour reef

And anchor off the wharves of home!