McClure's Magazine/Volume 51/Number 10/Robert Chapin


 * you stood in front of the iron bars,
 * And watched the lion look over your head?
 * He sees the palm-tree and the mate,
 * And the waste of the tawny desert!
 * Are you moved by the music, or the concourse
 * Of melodious words?
 * But how are you moved except for life
 * That made a self of you, responding
 * To sounds or scenes of remembered places,
 * Or other spheres, perhaps?
 * Life is a cage! Beauty a vision
 * Of a freedom once enjoyed.