 | Hercules Ellis - 1849 - 296 lehte
...fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed folly's vagrant feet ; And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat ! Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
 | Charles Anderton Read - 1879 - 390 lehte
...fence my wcedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed folly's vagrant feet ; And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat! Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
 | Charles MacCarthy Collins - 1885 - 350 lehte
...fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed Folly's vagrant feet ; And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, .at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat ? Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
 | Charles MacCarthy Collins - 1885 - 352 lehte
...fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed Folly's vagrant feet ; And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat ? Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
 | 1887 - 842 lehte
...fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed folly's vagrant feet, And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat ! Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
 | John Cooke - 1909 - 818 lehte
...fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed Folly's vagrant feet ; And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the Spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within the lone retreat ? Yes, though I not affect the immortal... | |
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Will he not fence my weedless turf around, Sacred from dull-eyed folly's vagrant feet, And there, soft swelling in aerial sound, Will he not list, at eve, to voices sweet ; Strew with the spring's first flowers the little mound, And often muse within... 