English poem
Vii
I behold our morning day When they chased Him out with rods Up to where this traitor lay Thirsting; and the blood was God’s! Red of heat, it shall be pressed, White of heat, once on my breast!
Versos English George Meredith Vii
Versos English George Meredith Vii
English poem
I behold our morning day When they chased Him out with rods Up to where this traitor lay Thirsting; and the blood was God’s! Red of heat, it shall be pressed, White of heat, once on my breast!