THE WINDOW-SILL

The fuchsias dangle on their stem,

The baby girl looks up at them,

The light comes through the muslin frill

Upon the painted window-sill.

She cannot see the world outside

Where men in snorting motors ride,

Each speeding from his far abode

To town, along the Fulham Road.

Bread and Circuses · 第 12 / 94 题