Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

Disenchantment

It dropped so low in my regard
  I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
  At bottom of my mind;

Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
  Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
  Upon my silver shelf.

1. I Have a King Who Does Not Speak
2. Lost Faith
3. Fire
4. Ventures
5. Contrast

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1650

Последние стихотворения

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