Poems of William Blake
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автордың кітабынан сөз тіркестері  Poems of William Blake
William Blake

Levan
Levanдәйексөз келтірді7 жыл бұрын
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, and he knew that it was mine,— And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning, glad, I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
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Удалённый аккаунт
Удалённый аккаунтдәйексөз келтірді10 жыл бұрын
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, and he knew that it was mine,— And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning, glad, I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
3 Ұнайды
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Акоб
Акобдәйексөз келтірді11 жыл бұрын
Ah Sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my Sunflower wishes to go!
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Анастасия К.
Анастасия К.дәйексөз келтірді1 жыл бұрын
For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is God our Father dear; And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is man, his child and care. For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face; And Love, the human form divine; And Peace, the human dress. Then every man, of every clime, That prays in his distress, Prays to the human form divine: Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace. And all must love the human form
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Анастасия К.
Анастасия К.дәйексөз келтірді1 жыл бұрын
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
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Коклюшкина Софья
Коклюшкина Софьядәйексөз келтірді1 жыл бұрын
And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright,
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Макар П.
Макар П.дәйексөз келтірді2 жыл бұрын
Starved in desert wild
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Удалённый аккаунт
Удалённый аккаунтдәйексөз келтірді6 жыл бұрын
Once a dream did weave a shade O'er my angel-guarded bed
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Удалённый аккаунт
Удалённый аккаунтдәйексөз келтірді7 жыл бұрын
The sun does arise, And make happy the skies;
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Naydenova Sofi
Naydenova Sofiдәйексөз келтірді10 жыл бұрын
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but oh my soul is white! White as an angel is the English child, But I am black, as if bereaved of light.
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