So spake the Voice, then thunder shook the wood, and lightning smote and splinter'd two tall trees that tower'd above the rest: the one a pine, an ash the other.
Then I knew the doom of those accursed men who sport with war and tear the body of their mothers. Trembling though guiltless did I hear that doom, Trembling though guiltless I;
for them I quaked of whom it spake...
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment