Well, I am thinking this may be my last summer, but cannot lose even a part of pleasure in the old-fashioned art of idleness. I cannot stand aghast at whatever doom hovers in the background, while grass and trees and the somnolent river who know they are allowed to last for ever.
exchange between them the whole subdued sound of this hot time. What sudden fearful fate can deter my shade wandering next year from a return?
Whistle, and I will hear and come another evening when this boat travels with you alone towards Iffley:
as you lie looking up for thunder again, this cool touch does not betoken rain; it is my spirit that kisses your mouth lightly.
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发表于 2018-10-15 12:12
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