《英詩劫》第二回˙#341
#341
After great pain, a formal feeling comes—
The Nevers sit ceremous, like Tombs—
The stiff Hear questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centures before?
The Feet, mechanical, go round—
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought—
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Qua...
