I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music... (ещё)I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees, The silver-crested ripples pass; And, like a mimic brook, the breeze Whispers among the grass. Here from the world I win release, Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude, Break in to mar the holy peace Of this great solitude. … Ye golden hours of Life's young spring, Of innocence, of love of truth! Bright, beyond all imagining, Thou fairy-dream of youth! I'd give all wealth that years have piled, The slow result of Life's decay, To be once more a little child For one bright summer-day. --Lewis Carroll (меньше)
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