1 min read
Слушать

The Fountain

Oh in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone;

It sang to the drowsy heart Of a satyr carved in stone.

The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred— Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard.

The fountain sang and sang And on the marble rim The milk-white peacocks slept,

Their dreams were strange and dim.

Bright dew was on the grass,

And on the ilex dew,

The dreamy milk-white birds Were all a-glisten too.

The fountain sang and sang The things one cannot tell,

The dreaming peacocks stirred And the gleaming dew-drops fell.

0
0
71
Give Award

Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933) was an American lyric poet. She was born Sarah Trevor Teasdale in St. Louis, Missouri, and use…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

«И вырвал грешный мой язык!»
Венок сонетов 1
До головокруженья душно
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+