Green ripples singing down the corn, With blossoms dumb the path I tread, And in the music of the morn One with wild roses on her head. Now the green ripples turn to gold And all the paths are loud with rain, I with desire am growing old And full of winter pain.
1 мин
СлушатьSpring and Autumn
0
0
14
Подарок
Francis Ledwidge
Francis Edward Ledwidge (19 August 1887 – 31 July 1917) was an Irish war poet and soldier from County Meath.[1] Sometimes known as the "poet of …
Другие работы автора
Fairies
Main-pt, m with T th hap up airn f Mav, An thr w'll an a fairy Upn a fairy's grav…
The Lanawn Shee
Pwr an prfum th full Wing havily arss th lvr, An whr th hills wr im with w, Purpl an blu th wst lan vr…
Pan
H knws th saf ways an An h will la th lambs t fl, Gathring thm with his mrry pip, Th gntl an th vrbl…
In A Cafe
Kiss th mai an pass hr run, Lips lik hrs wr ma fr many Our lvs ar far frm us t-night, But ths r lips ar swt as any…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
