William Morris (Уильям Моррис)

Pomona

I am the ancient apple-queen,
As once I was so am I now.
For evermore a hope unseen,
Betwixt the blossom and the bough.

Ah, where's the river's hidden Gold!
And where the windy grave of Troy?
Yet come I as I came of old,
From out the heart of Summer's joy. 

1. Of The Three Seekers
2. The Flowering Orchard
3. Sad-Eyed and Soft and Grey
4. The King Of Denmark's Sons
5. From the Upland to the Sea

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1553

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