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Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
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Home They are bringing her back To the town where she played As a girl. Do not lift the black Lid of the box to see how she has grayed. Here let her rest. This is the room she loved best, Under the rows Of books she used to read in the deep Leather chair, her little toes Dangling above the floor. Shut the door. Keep out the curious throng Gathered to see her back In the town where she played As a girl. Do not let them lift the black Lid of the box to see how she has grayed. Edith Mirick's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1603 |
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Английская поэзия | ||