Читать книгу Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series Two - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 2

        My nosegays are for captives;

           Dim, long-expectant eyes,

        Fingers denied the plucking,

           Patient till paradise,

        To such, if they should whisper

           Of morning and the moor,

        They bear no other errand,

           And I, no other prayer.