Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

1. The Farthest Thunder That I Heard
2. The Lost Thought
3. Reticence
4. On the Tleakness of My Lot
5. Upon the Gallows Hung a Wretch

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1704

Последние стихотворения

To English version