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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Dove</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Within his office, smiling.<br> Sat JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN,<br>But all the screws of Birmingham<br> Were working in his brain.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The heart within his bosom<br> Was as a millstone hard;<br>His eye was cold and cruel,<br> His face was frozen lard.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He had the map of Africa<br> Upon his table spread:<br>He took a brush, and with the same<br> He painted it blood-red.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He heard no moan of widows,<br> But only the hurrah<br>Of charging lines and squadrons<br> And 'Rule Britannia.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533772" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A white dove to his window<br> With branch of olive sped -<br>He took a ruler in his hand,<br> And struck the white dove dead.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Victor+James+Daley">Victor James Daley</a></strong></div>

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