O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate... The beauties of English poetry, selected from the most esteemed authors, by ... - Page 31 redigeeritud poolt - 1804 Full view -
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