On the Grasshopper and Cricket
BY
JOHN KEATS The Poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s-he takes the lead
In summer luxury,-he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
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Видимо, год издания источника для электронной публикации.
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там кстати очень удобные сноски
вот, к примеру
to autumn
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