Читать книгу Songs of the Army of the Night - Francis William Lauderdale Adams - Страница 23

Table of Contents

“He holds a pistol to my head,

Swearing that he will shoot me dead,

If he have not my purse instead,

The robber!”

“He, with the lash of wealth and power, Flogs out my heart and flings the dower, The plundered pittance of his hour, The robber!”

“He shakes his serpent tongue that lies,

Wins trust for poisoned sophistries

And stabs me in the dark, and flies,

The assassin!”

“He pits me in the dreadful fight Against my fellow. Then he quite Strips both his victims in the night, The assassin!”