Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона)

Requies

He is dead, and never word of blame
Or praise of him his spirit hears,
Sacred, secure from cark of fame,
From sympathy of useless tears. 

1. Dublin Tramcars
2. The Philistine
3. The Stars Stand up in the Air
4. On a Poet Patriot
5. Quando Ver Venit Meum?

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1400

Последние стихотворения

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