Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон)

Chose Vue

A metrical caprice.

Up she rose, fair daughter-well she was graced
As a cloud her going, stept from her chair,
As a summer-soft cloud, in her going paced,
Down dropped her riband-band, and all her waving hair
Shook like loosened music cadent to her waist;-
Lapsing like music, wavery as water,
Slid to her waist. 

1. Dream-Tryst
2. The Making of Viola
3. St. Monica
4. To the Sinking Sun
5. The Dread of Height

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1376

Последние стихотворения

To English version