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Aline Murray Kilmer (Алина Мюррей Килмер)


For All Ladies of Shalott


THE web flew out and floated wide.
Poor lady! I was with her then.
She gathered up her piteous pride,
But she could never weave again.

The mirror cracked from side to side;
I saw its silver shadows go.
"The curse has come on me!" she cried.
Poor lady! I had told her so.

She was so proud: she would not hide.
She only laughed and tried to sing.
But singing, in her song she died.
She did not profit anything.



Aline Murray Kilmer's other poems:
  1. Shards
  2. Bound
  3. To Sappho, about Her Apple
  4. The Harp
  5. Light Lover


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Английская поэзия