Classic Poem

I

A S a naked man I go
— Through the desert sore afraid,
Holding up my head although
— I'm as frightened as a maid.

The couching lion there I saw
— From barren rocks lift up his eye;
He parts the cactus with his paw,
— He stares at me as I go by.

He would follow on my trace
— If he knew I was afraid,
If he knew my hardy face
— Hides the terrors of a maid.

In the night he rises and
— He stretches forth, he snuffs the air;
He roars and leaps along the sand,
— He creeps and watches everywhere.

His burning eyes, his eyes of bale,
— Through the darkness I can see;
He lashes fiercely with his tail,
— He would love to spring at me.

I am the lion in his lair;
— I am the fear that frightens me;
I am the desert of despair
— And the nights of agony.

Night or day, whate'er befall,
— I must walk that desert land,
Until I can dare to call
— The lion out to lick my hand.

II

As a naked man I tread
— The gloomy forests, ring on ring,
Where the sun that's overhead
— Cannot see what's happening.

There I go: the deepest shade,
— The deepest silence pressing me;
And my heart is more afraid
— Than a maiden's heart would be.

Every day I have to run
— Underneath the demon tree,
Where the ancient wrong is done
— While I shrink in agony.

There the demon held a maid
— In his arms, and as she, daft,
Screamed again in fear, he laid
— His lips upon her lips and laughed.


And she beckoned me to run,
— And she called for help to me,
And the ancient wrong was done
— Which is done eternally.

I am the maiden and the fear;
— I am the sunless shade, the strife;
I the demon lips, the sneer
— Showing under every life.

I must tread that gloomy way
— Until I shall dare to run
And bear the demon with his prey
— From the forest to the sun.