·
2 мин
Слушать

The Land Of Nod

From breakfast on through all the day  At home among my friends I stay,  But every night I go abroad  Afar into the land of Nod.  All by myself I have to go,  With none to tell me what to do —  All alone beside the streams  And up the mountain-sides of dreams.  The strangest things are there for me,  Both things to eat and things to see,

And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way,

I never can get back by day,

Nor can remember plain and clear The curious music that I hear.

0
0
118
Подарок

Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis Stevenson (born Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson; 13 November 1850 – 3 December 1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet and travel writer…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.