Edgar Lee Masters (Эдгар Ли Мастерс)

A.D. Blood

If you in the village think that my work was a good one,
Who closed the saloons and stopped all playing at cards,
And haled old Daisy Fraser before Justice Arnett,
In many a crusade to purge the people of sin;
Why do you let the milliner’s daughter Dora,
And the worthless son of Benjamin Pantier,
Nightly make my grave their unholy pillow?

1. O Glorious France
2. Richard Bone
3. Serepta Mason
4. Hod Putt
5. Judson Stoddard

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1205

Последние стихотворения

To English version