Christopher Morley (Кристофер Морли)

Reading Aloud

ONCE we read Tennyson aloud
    In our great fireside chair; 
Between the lines my lips could touch
    Her April-scented hair.

How very fond I was, to think
    The printed poems fair, 
When close within my arms I held
    A living lyric there!

1. The Commercial Traveller
2. Washing the Dishes
3. To a Grandmother
4. Ars Dura
5. O. Henry—Apothecary

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1703

Последние стихотворения

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