Читать книгу Black Beetles in Amber - Ambrose Bierce - Страница 16

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"Let John P. Irish rise!" the edict rang

As when Creation into being sprang!

Nature, not clearly understanding, tried

To make a bird that on the air could ride.

But naught could baffle the creative plan—

Despite her efforts 'twas almost a man.

Yet he had risen—to the bird a twin—

Had she but fixed a wing upon his chin.