 | Omar Khayyam - 1898 - 146 страница
...Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend, ourselves to make a Couch — for whom ? -.. / sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Ccesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears TJropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. XX... | |
 | Richard Garnett - 1899 - 432 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...bled ; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. xx. And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River... | |
 | Richard James Horatio Gottheil, Epiphanius Wilson - 1899 - 478 страница
...: And Bahram, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. 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 this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip... | |
 | Omar Khayyam - 1899 - 192 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...bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. This worn caravanserai which is called the world Is the resting-place... | |
 | Timothy Dwight, Julian Hawthorne - 1899 - 464 страница
...: And Bahram, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. 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 this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip... | |
 | Henry Coppée - 1899 - 544 страница
...dusty face, Lighting a little hour or two—is gone. I sometimes think that never blow so red The roses as where some buried Caesar bled; That every hyacinth...wears Dropt in its lap from some once lovely head. And this delightful herb whose tender green Fledges the river's lip on which we lean— Ah, lean upon... | |
 | John Glyde - 1900 - 390 страница
...stars to flight; And lo ! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light. ' 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.' It is to be observed that there is no coherence in Omar's work.... | |
 | Omar Khayyam - 1900 - 198 страница
...Ourselves must we beneath the Conch of Earth Descend, ourselves to make a Couch — for whom ? II ED.] XXIV 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 this delightful Herb whose living Green Fledges the River's... | |
 | 1900 - 462 страница
...: And Bahram, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. 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 this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip... | |
 | Omar Khayyam, Edward FitzGerald - 1900 - 162 страница
...And Bahram, 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 That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. XX. And this reviving... | |
| |
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. 
