Bacchanalia or The New Age (Matthew Arnold Poems)
IThe evening comes, the fields are still.The tinkle of the thirsty rill,Unheard all day, ascends again;Deserted is the half-mown plain,Silent ...
IThe evening comes, the fields are still.The tinkle of the thirsty rill,Unheard all day, ascends again;Deserted is the half-mown plain,Silent ...
Who'll walk the fields with us to town,In an old coat and a faded gown?We take our roots and country ...
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree,Farewell to Severn shore.Terence, look your last at me,For I come home no more.'The ...
I walked in a half-mown flowering meadow by the sea's- Edge of the grass, where yesterday the mower went. Bloomy ...
"Farewell to barn and stack and tree, Farewell to Severn shore. Terence, look your last at me, For I come ...
The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is ...
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