The drowsy carrier sways To the drowsy horses` tramp. His axles winnow the sprays Of the hedge where the rabbit plays In the light of his single lamp. He hears a roar behind, A howl, a hoot, and a yell A headlight strikes him blind And a stench o`erpowers the wind Like a blast from the mouth of Hell. He mends his swingle-bar And loud his curses ring; But a mother watching afar Hears the hum of the doctor`s car Like the beat of an angel`s wings! So, to the poet`s mood, Motor or carrier`s wan, Properly understood, Are neither evil nor good— Ormuzd not Ahriman!SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
The script ran 0 seconds.