Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона)

A Woman

Time on her face has writ
    A hundred years,
And all the page of it
    Blurred with his tears;

Yet in his holiest crypt
    Treasuring the scroll,
Keeps the sweet manuscript
    Fair as her soul.

1. Of a Greek Poem
2. The Philistine
3. In Dread
4. Requies
5. My Poet

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1567

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