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William Henry Davies (Уильям Генри Дэвис (Дэйвис))


My Youth


My youth was my old age,
    Weary and long;
It had too many cares
    To think of song;
My moulting days all came
    When I was young.

Now, in life's prime, my soul
    Comes out in flower;
Late, as with Robin, comes
    My singing power;
I was not born to joy
    Till this late hour.



William Henry Davies's other poems:
  1. Smiles
  2. СпящиеThe Sleepers
  3. The Starved
  4. The Old Oak Tree
  5. Poor Kings


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