sung - Популярные cтихи, рассказы и фанфики

One sung of thee who left the tale untold,
Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting;
Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold,
Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting

Now only words in a rhyme,
no more than a name
on a stone,
and that well overgrown –