 | Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay |  |
B.C. 2. Nine years later.
With quiet gesture and tremendous mienSet still held the gods' too-sleepy eyes.
He pointed there to the pitiful prostrate one,
Half-mummy, and half-living girl. Her lips
Had called in vain for water and for food
For years and years, for moments like centuries.
More than her thirst and hunger was deeper still
A memory like old poison in deep wounds,
Antony's treachery to Cæsarion.
| Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | |