Читать книгу The Song Maker - A Collection of Poems - Sara Teasdale - Страница 25

I sang a song at dusking time

Beneath the evening star,

And Terence left his latest rhyme

To answer from afar.

Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,

And sighed, "She sings for me,"

But Colin slept a careless sleep

Beneath an apple tree.