Edgar Lee Masters (Эдгар Ли Мастерс)
Franklin Jones
If I could have lived another year I could have finished my flying machine, And become rich and famous. Hence it is fitting the workman Who tried to chisel a dove for me Made it look more like a chicken. For what is it all but being hatched, And running about the yard, To the day of the block? Save that a man has an angel’s brain, And sees the ax from the first!
Edgar Lee Masters’s other poems:
889