 | Elizabeth McCracken - 1917 - 228 str.
...would not trust my heart, — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no, — what here we call our life is such, So little to be...a gallant bark from albion's coast (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and... | |
 | Elizabeth McCracken - 1917 - 234 str.
...would not trust my heart, — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no, — what here we call our life is such, So little to be...a gallant bark from albion's coast (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and... | |
 | Harriette Story Paige - 1917 - 410 str.
...trust my heart — the dear delight Seems to be so desired, perhaps I might : But, no ; what we here call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to restrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again." We dined with Mr.2 and Mrs. Grote ; » the former is... | |
 | Ernest Bernbaum - 1918 - 436 str.
...I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be...a gallant bark from Albion's coast, The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed, Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and... | |
 | 1918 - 2062 str.
...would not trust my heart, — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might, — But no, — X/ weathered and the ocean crossed), Shoots into port at some wcll-havened isle, Where spices breathe,... | |
 | 1919 - 230 str.
...would not trust my heart, — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no, — what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and tliou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain, Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. Thou,... | |
 | Leonard Southerden Wood - 1921 - 396 str.
...would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desir'd, perhaps I might — But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be lov'd, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds... | |
 | Charles Herbert Sylvester - 1922 - 526 str.
...would not trust my heart, — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no, — what here we call our life is such, So little to be...requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bounds again. 4. Humour here means temper. 5. Numbers is used for poetic measures; poetry. 6. Tissued... | |
 | John Drinkwater - 1924 - 400 str.
...not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. — • But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be...a gallant bark from Albion's coast (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe,... | |
 | Harry Morgan Ayres, Frederick Morgan Padelford - 1924 - 942 str.
...would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. — But no — s the criticism of life contained in modern literature."...distinctive character of our times," he urges, "lies weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe,... | |
| |
Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile), Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. 
