She stood breast high amid the corn,
Clasped by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.
On her cheek an autumn flush,
Deeply ripened; such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with...
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¡Otra, otra infortunada, Recogedla con blandura, |
Je me rappelle – oh ! oui je me rappelle |
THOU happy, happy elf! |
“O where, and O where ONE day, as I was going by |
I Remember, I remember |
She stood breast high amid the corn, On her cheek an autumn flush |
SPRING it is cheery, Love will not clip him, |
With fingers weary and worn, |
“Drowned! drowned!”—Hamlet. ONE more unfortunate, Take her up tenderly, Look at her garments... |