 And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him, — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. He heard...  New National Third Reader - Page 374by Charles Joseph Barnes - 1884 - 240 pagesFull view - About this book
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