After the wailing had already begun along the walls, their ruin certain, the Trojans fidgeted with bits of wood in the three-ply doors, itsy-bitsy pieces of wood, fussing with them. And began to get their nerve back and feel hopeful.
Added: 31 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 24 Sep 2026 5:18 PM | Viewed: 6229 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...