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Arthur Graeme West (Артур Грэм Уэст) Seeing Her off A whistle ’mid the distant hills Shattered the silence grey, She turned on me her great sad eyes, Then lightly skimmed away. I followed slow her flying feet In idlest heaviness, But oh! my heart it laught to see Roar through the proud express. In the after silence and the gloom I found her there again, And won three minutes more delight Before the second pain. Arthur Graeme West's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1203 |
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