Читать книгу The Poetry Collections of Lewis Carroll - Lewis Carroll - Страница 8

Table of Contents

Were I to take an iron gun,

And fire it off towards the sun;

I grant ’twould reach its mark at last,

But not till many years had passed.

But should that bullet change its force,

And to the planets take its course,

’Twould never reach the nearest star, Because it is so very far.