Borgia A Period Play |
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 | Borgia |  |
189
Among the Kings gold-browed as this. Oh, peace!
But lift it in your hands—'tis Gideon's fleece
This forthright weft of silky blond. And many
Dumb animals lurk at the eyelids' crease,
Under the eyes—a serpent that from fenny
Marish finds sluice; a lion when in den he
Deviseth rage; an ox beneath the trees:
Yea, and an eagle droopeth for its prey,
A malign eagle, in the slack, dull gaze.
But on the lips what panting savagery,
The fang of the wolf on winter forest-ways!
Yet is the face soft, lonely, over all
A honied mystery that must appal.
| Borgia | |