Charles George Douglas Roberts (Чарльз Джордж Дуглас Робертс)

The Frosted Pane

   One night came Winter noiselessly, and leaned 
     Against my window-pane. 
   In the deep stillness of his heart convened 
     The ghosts of all his slain. 
   Leaves, and ephemera, and stars of earth, 
     And fugitives of grass, — 
   White spirits loosed from bonds of mortal birth, 
     He drew them on the glass.

1. At the Gates of Spring
2. Twilight on Sixth Avenue at Ninth Street
3. Afoot
4. The Potato Harvest
5. The Autumn Thistles

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1357

Последние стихотворения

To English version