Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Lodging-House Fuchsias

Mrs Masters’s fuchsias hung
Higher and broader, and brightly swung,
Bell-like, more and more
Over the narrow garden-path,
Giving the passer a sprinkle-bath
In the morning.

She put up with their pushful ways,
And made us tenderly lift their sprays,
Going to her door:
But when her funeral had to pass
They cut back all the flowery mass
In the morning.

1. If You Had Known
2. The Seven Times
3. The To-Be-Forgotten
4. Boys Then and Now
5. The Woman in the Rye

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1907

Последние стихотворения

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