Reginald Hill
Under World

Hear truth: I stood on the steep brink whereunder

Runs down the dolorous chasm of the Pit,

Ringing with infinite groans like gathered thunder.

Deep, dense, and by no faintest glimmer lit

It lay, and though I strained my sight to find

Bottom, not one thing could I see in it.

Down must we go, to that dark world and blind.


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