Walter Savage Landor (Уолтер Сэвидж Лэндор)

* * *

MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel;
    My fingers ache, my lips are dry: 
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
    But Oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true;
    All other men may use deceit: 
He always said my eyes were blue,
    And often swore my lips were sweet. 

1. Tell Me Not Things Past All Belief
2. Rose Aylmer
3. Past Ruin'd Ilion Helen Lives
4. Ternissa! You Are Fled!
5. The Gates of Fame and of the Grave

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1678

Последние стихотворения

To English version