Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay :: :: University of Virginia Library

Set, the beautiful, the hard and proud,
Stealer of vases of most precious ointment—
Stealer of red, pitiful, human hearts—
Determined still to win the universe,
Set, the Accuser, victor in his fashion,
Since, to accuse, to him was victory,
Insulter of judges and stars to the highest sky,
He, who accused Job long ago,
In the judgment hall of Jehovah of the Jews,
Then laid his hand upon him through long years:—
Set, the Accuser, resuming his name of Satan,
Wearing sandals of hell-fire, laughing, not smiling,
Barking his terrified bark, marched far to the north,
There to accuse and tempt in the Dead Sea Desert,
And on a pinnacle of King Herod's temple,
And on a flower-decked mountain of meditation:—
The son of a girl, fairer than Cleopatra,
A son of Amon-Ra, prouder than Cæsar,
And lovelier than the young Cæsarion.

On reading the latest proof of this poem, I have found a book that elaborately confirms the political hypothesis:—“The Life and Times of Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt—A Study in the Origin of the Roman Empire,” by Arthur Weigall, published by Thomas Butterworth, Limited, 15 Bedford Street, London W.C. 2; and G. P. Putnam's Sons, 2 West 45th Street, New York City. But the same idea may be found in Ferrero's “Greatness and Decline of Rome,” in all the comment on Cleopatra. I have outlined this poem of mine as a possible photoplay in “The Art of the Moving Picture,” pages 254–260.