Toll
Poor bell rebelled in the sky
Fortune-yeller cried for war
Tolled again as a telltale sigh
On the snow the death knell swore
Stone cold hawk in an empty hand
Saw no lure in the handsaw eye
Poor bell quelled the battle-cry
Brought the bird-call into the fold
The voice ran away far from eye
Till the steam in the throat got cold
Stone cold hawk in an empty hand
Saw no lure in the handsaw eye
Writer/s: Art Project Shepot
