Читать книгу Summer of Love - Joyce Kilmer - Страница 9

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King Midas took delight

In golden vessels bright,

And yellow bars of ore he found most fair;

But he had never seen

The dancing, glancing sheen

Of sunlight on your dark and fragrant hair.

His wealth could buy him wine

Made from the purple vine

And sweet as all the blossom-breathing South;

But he could never slake

His thirst, nor ease the ache

Of his hot lips at your love-pliant mouth.