Echoes


Lady Clara Vere de Vere Was eight years old, she said: Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread. She took her little porringer: Of me she shall not win renown: For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her down. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid? There stands the Inspector at thy door: Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four." "Kind words are more than coronets," She said, and wondering looked at me: "It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea."


Congratulations! Your recitation has been created. Let's wait and see what others think of your performance.

Now playing

sergey May 20, 2013 at 7:45am

This is awful and robratterman sucks!

Reply

robert-bobert May 21, 2013 at 3:10am

Yeah, this guy is just nuts!

robratterman May 21, 2013 at 3:12am

YOU BOTH ARE FIRED!!!

poemz recitations




No one has recorded this poem yet! Be the first!
more

or

Upload .mp3 file
or click here to cancel.

Please allow us to use your microphone...

Recording in progress

00:00

Please wait while we upload your record...

Review your performance