Читать книгу The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No. 1, July, 1862 - Various - Страница 2

Silent the lady sat alone:

In her ears were rings of dead men's bone;

The brooch on her breast shone white and fine,

'Twas the polished joint of a Yankee's spine;

And the well-carved handle of her fan,

Was the finger-bone of a Lincoln man.

She turned aside a flower to cull,

From a vase which was made of a human skull;

For to make her forget the loss of her slaves,

Her lovers had rifled dead men's graves.

Do you think I'm describing a witch or ghoul?

There are no such things—and I'm not a fool;

Nor did she reside in Ashantee;

No—the lady fair was an F.F.V.