Vachel Lindsay (Вэчел Линдсей)

Euclid

OLD Euclid drew a circle 
On a sand-beach long ago. 
He bounded and enclosed it 
With angles thus and so. 
His set of solemn greybeards 
Nodded and argued much 
Of arc and circumference, 
Diameter and such. 
A silent child stood by them 
From morning until noon 
Because they drew such charming 
Round pictures of the moon.

1. Sweet Briars of the Stairways
2. Sweethearts of the Year
3. How a Little Girl Sang
4. Here’s to the Mice!
5. A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1719

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