Yet abandon'd to thy will, Yet imagining no ill, Yet too innocent to blush ; Like the linnet in the bush To the mother-linnet's note Moduling her slender throat ; Chirping forth thy petty joys, Wanton in the change of toys, Like the linnet green, in May... Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic - Страница 461 по Beautiful poetry - 1854 Пълен достъп -
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