quote · Legacy record
As she left the cold arena Angel had to laugh,Beaten by that of a wisp girl and her subliming cunning craft.—Jove lay silent in his orbit; brooding, deep, dreamless forweep,And faithful dog Sirius rising tracked behind on dusk’s purpling adeep. Scratched he his chin; counted the cold and early evening stars,He had miles to go that night, they being so very far.Only the music of the wint’ring span,Vanished he away in the shimmering land. . . . . . .
As she left the cold arena Angel had to laugh,Beaten by that of a wisp girl and her subliming cunning craft.—Jove lay silent in his orbit; brooding, deep, dreamless forweep,And faithful dog Sirius rising tracked behind on dusk’s purpling adeep. Scratched he his chin; counted the cold and early evening stars,He had miles to go that night, they being so very far.Only the music of the wint’ring span,Vanished he away in the shimmering land. . . . . . .
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- Author or tradition
- Douglas M. Laurent
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Supplied reference C; CSV row 66279; supplied attribution, independently unverified
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