I left you in the morning,And in the morning glow,You walked a way beside meTo make me sad to go.Do you know me in the gloaming,Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming?Are you dumb because you know me not,Or dumb because you know?...

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth - Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches...

When the wind works against us in the dark, And pelts with snow The lower chamber window on the east, And whispers with a sort of stifled bark, The beast, 'Come out! Come out!' - It costs no inward struggle not to go, Ah, no! ...

Now close the windows and hush all the fields: If the trees must, let them silently toss; No bird is singing now, and if there is, Be it my loss. It will be long ere the marshes resume, It will be long ere the earliest bird: S...

They leave us so to the way we took, As two in whom they were proved mistaken, That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook, With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look, And try if we cannot feel forsaken.Упущения ради. Роберт Фрост....

Эпиграмма на себяВсе начали писать стихи,А я возьмусь за прозу.Вы скажете: ?ха-ха! хи-хи!?,Я вам сострою р…у.***Прощёное воскресеньеМоя душа, как Ангел, плачет,У всех прощения моля.Но добрых слов никто н...

Is this a holy thing to seeIn a rich and fruitful land,Babes reduced to misery,Fed with cold and usurous hand?Is that trembling cry a song?Can it be a song of joy?And so many children poor?It is a land of poverty!An...

Is this a holy thing to seeIn a rich and fruitful land,Babes reduced to misery,Fed with cold and usurous hand?Is that trembling cry a song?Can it be a song of joy?And so many children poor?It is a land of poverty!An...

"I'm oldBotany Bay;stiff in the joints,little to say.I am hewho paved the way,that you might walkat your ease to-day;I was the conscriptsent to hellto make in the desertthe living well;I bor...

How countlessly they congregate O'er our tumultuous snow, Which flows in shapes as tall as trees When wintry winds do blow! - As if with keenness for our fate, Our faltering few steps on To white rest, and a place of rest ...