1 мин
Слушать(AI)When the Rose is Faded
When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.
That vanishing loveliness,
That burdening breath,
No bond of life hath then,
Nor grief of death. 'Tis the immortal thought Whose passion still Makes the changing The unchangeable.
Oh, thus thy beauty,
Loveliest on earth to me,
Dark with no sorrow, shines And burns, with thee.
Walter de la Mare
Walter John de la Mare (25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956) was an English poet, short story writer, and novelist. He is probably best remembered for
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
The Listeners
Is there anybody there said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the
Toms Little Dog
Tom told his dog called Tim to beg, And up at once he sat, His two clear amber eyes fixed fast, His haunches on his mat
Martha
Once, once upon a time Over and over again, Martha would tell us her stories, In the hazel glen
The Fool Rings His Bells
Come, Death, I'd have a word with thee; And thou, poor Innocency;