Ceremonial Hunt

As the racing circle closed in like a lassoo
Of running dogs and horses, as the sage was swept,
Out of the turmoil suddenly upward leapt
A jack-rabbit's fawn and jet, with its great soft eye
And fantastic ears outlined against the sky,
Hanging in life a strange moment, then falling back
From that remote beautiful leap to the teeth of the pack
And the trampling hoofs and the Indians' thin halloo.
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