Edward Hopper Summertime paintingEdward Hopper Summer Evening paintingEdward Hopper Room in New York painting
Gradually her face changed, the prophetic power overcame her, she struggled and gasped, there was a rushing noise through all the galleries, doors banged, wings swished my face, the light vanished, and she uttered a Greek verse in the voice of the God:
Who groans beneath the Punic Curse And strangles in the strings of purse, Before she mends must sicken worse.
Her living mouth shall breed blue flies, And maggots creep about her eyes. No man shall mark the day she dies.
Then she tossed her arms over her head and began again:
Ten years, fifty days and three, Clau-Clau-Clau-shall given be A gift that all desire but he.
To a fawning fellowship
He shall stammer, cluck and trip,
Dribbling always with his lip.
But when he's dumb and no more here,
Nineteen hundred years or near,
Clau-Clau-Claudius shall speak clear.
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