A MAN that had six mortal wounds, a man Violent and famous, strode among the dead; Eyes stared out of the branches and were gone. Then certain Shrouds that muttered head to head Came and were gone. He leant upon a tree As though to meditate on wounds and blood. A Shroud that seemed to have authority Among those bird-like things came, and let fall A bundle of linen. Shrouds by two and three Came creeping up because the man was still. And thereupon that linen-carrier said: "Your life can grow much sweeter if you will "Obey our ancient rule and make a shroud; Mainly because of what we only know The rattle of those arms makes us afraid. "We thread the needles` eyes, and all we do All must together do.` That done, the man Took up the nearest and began to sew. "Now must we sing and sing the best we can, But first you must be told our character: Convicted cowards all, by kindred slain "Or driven from home and left to die in fear.` They sang, but had nor human tunes nor words, Though all was done in common as before; They had changed their throats and had the throats of birds.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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