Читать книгу I Heard a Sailor - Wilfrid Wilson Gibson - Страница 8

Table of Contents

He slipped aside

The white-hot slide

And gazed upon the bubbling steel:

And stood astare

Until the glare

Had blinded him, and like a wheel

With white-hot felloe sparking red

His brain was turning in his head.

Night after night

He’d watched that white

And bubbling hell-broth seethe and boil:

His wits had fed

The furnace red

Till now, at last released from toil,

He shrivelled up without a whine

Before the fire-god’s glowing shrine.