2 min read
Слушать(AI)Romance
MY Love dwelt in a Northern land. A gray tower in a forest green Was hers, and far on either hand The long wash of the waves was seen, And leagues on leagues of yellow sand, The woven forest boughs between! And through the silver Northern night The sunset slowly died away, And herds of strange deer, lily-white, Stole forth among the branches gray;
About the coming of the light, They fled like ghosts before the day! I know not if the forest green Still girdles round that castle gray; I know not if the boughs between The white deer vanish ere the day; Above my Love the grass is green, My heart is colder than the clay!
Andrew Lang
Andrew Lang (31 March 1844 – 20 July 1912) was a Scottish poet, novelist, literary critic, and contributor to the field of anthropology. He is b
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Douglas Tragedy
Rise up, rise up now, Lord Douglas, she says,And put on your armour so bright; Let it never be said that a daughter of Was married to a lord under night
Villanelle
Apollo left the golden Muse And shepherded a mortal's sheep, Theocritus of Syracuse To mock the giant swain that woo's The sea-nymph in the sunny deep, Apollo left the golden Muse
San Terenzo
ID April seemed like some November day, When through the glassy waters, dull as lead, Our boat, like shadowy barques that bear the dead, Slipped down the long shores of the Spezian bay, Rounded a point,—and San Terenzo Before us, that gay vil...
Les Roses de Sâdi
This morning I vowed I would bring thee my roses, They were thrust in the band that my bodice encloses; But the breast-knots were broken, the roses went free The breast-knots were broken; the roses together Floated forth on the wing...
