Стихи и рассказы из категории much

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49I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod
Twice have I stood a
Before the door of God
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No one so much as
Loves this my clay,
Or would lament as
Its dying day
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What do I want in these rooms papered with visions of money
How much can I make by cutting my hair
If I put new heels on my shoes, bathe my body reeking of masturbation and sweat, layer upon layer of excrement dried in employment bureaus...
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Ryfma award iconВыбор редакции
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The World Is Too Much With Us
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You are much too big to dandle,
And I will not leave the candle
Go to sleep
You are growing naughty, rather,
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We know this much Death is an evil; we have the gods' word for it; they too would die if death were a good thing
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Weep not too much, my darling;
Sigh not too oft for me;
Say not the face of
Has lost its charm for thee
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