Семидесятивосьмисловие пустоши

ПреддвериеIXFor mark! no sooner was I fairly found Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two, Than, pausing to throw backward a last view O'er the safe road, 'twas gone; grey plain all round: Nothing but plain to the horizon’s bound. I might go on; nought else remained to do.XSo, on I went. I think I never saw Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve: For flowers-as well expect a cedar grove! But cockle, spurge, according to their law Might propagate their kind, with none to awe, You'd think; a burr had been a treasure trove.XINo! penury, inertness and grimace, In some strange sort, were the land’s portion. «See Or shut your eyes,» said Nature peevishly, «It nothing skills: I cannot help my case: ‘Tis the Last Judgment's fire must cure this place, Calcine its clods and set my prisoners free».XIIIf there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk Above its mates, the head was…