Poetry & Verse
The Fatal Sisters
By Thomas GraySource: Thomas Gray - PoetryDB (Public Domain)292 words
Now the storm begins to lower, (Haste, the loom of Hell prepares!) Iron-sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darkened air. Glittering lances are the...
This is a poetry & verse.
Now the storm begins to lower, (Haste, the loom of Hell prepares!) Iron-sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darkened air. Glittering lances are the loom, Where the dusky warp we strain, Weaving many a soldier's doom, Orkney's woe and Randver's bane. See the grisly texture grow, ('Tis of human entrails made!) And the weights that play below, Each a gasping warrior's head.…
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