Читать книгу I Heard a Sailor - Wilfrid Wilson Gibson - Страница 6

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Squatted on their hunkers at the corner of the street

Outside the Pouter Pigeon a knot of pitmen sat

Waiting for the doors to open, cursing the raw sleet,

Or muttering with husky throats dully of this and that:

When suddenly within the ring of the street-lamp’s gusty flame,

Out of the stormy shadows of the black November night,

Like a little slip of moonshine a snow-white whippet came

And stayed one breathless moment before their startled sight.

Speechless they gazed upon her as she stood with lifted paw,

Clean-limbed, with quivering muzzle and jetty eyes agleam,

Nor heard the doors swing open wide as each lad looked with awe

One moment on the vision of his own heart’s secret dream.