Читать книгу The Book of Humorous Verse - Various - Страница 25
WINTER DUSK
Оглавление| The prospect is bare and white, And the air is crisp and chill; While the ebon wings of night Are spread on the distant hill. The roar of the stormy sea Seem the dirges shrill and sharp That winter plays on the tree— His wild Æolian harp. In the pool that darkly creeps In ripples before the gale, A star like a lily sleeps And wiggles its silver tail. R. K. Munkittrick. |
