Black Beetles in Amber - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 125

INDICTED

Dear Bruner, once we had a little talk (That is to say, 'twas I did all the talking)About the manner of your moral walk: How devious the trail you made in stalking,On level ground, your law-protected game—"Another's Dollar" is, I think, its name.Your crooked course more recently is not So blamable; for, truly, you have stumbledOn evil days; and 'tis your luckless lot To traverse spaces (with a spirit humbled,Contrite, dejected and divinely sad)Where, 'tis confessed, the walking's rather bad.Jordan, the song says, is a road (I thought It was a river) that is hard to travel;And Dublin, if you'd find it, must be sought Along a highway with more rocks than gravel.In difficulty neither can competeWith that wherein you navigate your feet.As once George Gorham said of Pixley, so I say of you: "The prison yawns before you,The turnkey stalks behind!" Now will you go? Or lag, and let that functionary floor you?To change the metaphor—you seem to beBetween Judge Wallace and the deep, deep sea!