* * *
Many workmen Built a huge ball of masonry Upon a mountain-top. Then they went to the valley below, And turned to behold their work. ”It is grand,” they said; They loved the thing. Of a sudden, it moved: It came upon them swiftly; It crushed them all to blood. But some had opportunity to squeal.
Stephen Crane’s other poems:
Poetry In English недавно публиковал (посмотреть все)
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