March 1936

Page 1

March, 1936

I raised my bow and steadily drew The silken string until I knew

My trusty arrow’s barbed point Lay on my left forefinger joint— Until I felt the feather seek My ear, swift-drawn across my cheek: Then from my fingers leapt the string. With sharp recoil and deadly ring,

Like twenty serpents bound together Hissed the flying arrow’s feather! —Maurice Thompson.


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