gray - Популярные cтихи, рассказы и фанфики

Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms

Oh, gray and tender is the rain,
That drips, drips on the pane
A hundred things come in the door,
The scent of herbs, the thought of yore

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray,
And when I cross'd the Wild,
I chanc'd to see at break of
The solitary Child