Page:Carroll - Three Sunsets.djvu/49

BEATRICE. For I think, if a grim wild beast
 * Were to come from his charnel-cave,

From his jungle-home in the East—
 * Stealthily creeping with bated breath
 * Stealthily creeping with eyes of death—

He would all forget his dream of the feast,
 * And crouch at her feet a slave.

She would twine her hand in his mane:
 * She would prattle in silvery tone,

Like the tinkle of summer-rain—
 * Questioning him with her laughing eyes,
 * Questioning him with a glad surprise

Till she caught from those fierce eyes again
 * The love that lit her own.

And be sure, if a savage heart,
 * In a mask of human guise,

Were to come on her here apart—
 * Bound for a dark and a deadly deed,
 * Hurrying past with pitiless speed—

He would suddenly falter and guiltily start
 * At the glance of her pure blue eyes.

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