 I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.  Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám - Страница 32написао/ла Omar Khayyam - 1898 - 102 страницаПуни преглед - О овој књизи
 | Sir Mountstuart Elphinstone Grant Duff - 1876 - 314 страница
...while of Me and Thee There was — and then no more of Thee and Me." OMAR KHAYYAM. 19 And again * * " I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose, as where some buried Csesar bled ; That every hyacinth the garden wears Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head. "And... | |
 | London city of Lond. sch - 1877 - 340 страница
...all their pains. Behold, the graves of the great kings are good for nothing but—to rear flowers. " I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose...bled ; That every Hyacinth the garden wears Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head. " And that delightful herb whose living green Fledges the river's... | |
 | 1878 - 536 страница
...in the sky ; To stay at home is best. — HW Longfellow, in February Atlantic. Bum Vivimus Vivanras, I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried Cn>sar bled ; That every hyacinth the garden wears Dropt in her hip from some once lovely head. And... | |
 | Omar Khayyam - 1879 - 142 страница
...Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XIX. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled ; XX. And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean — Ah, lean... | |
 | Omar Khayyam - 1879 - 146 страница
...Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XIX. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Cassar bled ; XX. And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean... | |
 | Omar Khayyam - 1879 - 144 страница
...Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XIX. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Ceesar bled ; XX. And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean... | |
 | Henry Mills Alden, Frederick Lewis Allen, Lee Foster Hartman, Thomas Bucklin Wells - 1881 - 986 страница
...are not expressed in the verses in which he has embodied his Epicurean philosophy. He says, indeed, " I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried Caesar bled." But the glories of the world had as little attraction for him as the Prophet's paradise. He rejected... | |
 | Henry Mills Alden - 1881 - 984 страница
...are not expressed in the verses in which he has embodied his Epicurean philosophy. He says, indeed, " I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried Caesar bled." But the glories of the world had as little attraction for him as the Prophet's paradise. He rejected... | |
 | Charles Godfrey Leland - 1882 - 402 страница
...of lilies has shown me where the sea-foam once fell, and pine-trees sang of masts preceding them. " I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried Caasar bled ; That every hyacinth the garden wears Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head." *... | |
 | Edward FitzGerald - 1887 - 544 страница
...deep: And Bahrain, that great Hunter—the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, and he lies fast asleep. \ XVIII I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Ca:sar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head. XIX... | |
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