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The Desert |
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And I watched his face as he spelled it out —
laughed as I laughed, and died. " And thus/' said the lean coyote, " his need is the
hungry's feast, And mine." I fumbled and pulled my gun — emptied it wild and fast, But one of the crazy shots went home and silenced the waiting beast; There lay the shape of the Liar, dead! 'Twas I that should laugh the last. Laugh? Nay, now I would write my name as the
Upland Rider wrote; Write? What need, for before my eyes in a wide and wavering line I saw the trace of a written word and letter by letter float Into a mist as the world grew dark; and I knew that the name was mine. Dreams and visions within the dream; turmoil and fire and pain; Hands that proffered a brimming cup — empty, ere I could take; Then the burst of a thunder-head — rain! It was rude, fierce rain! Blindly down to the hole I crept, shivering, drenched, awake! H3 |
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