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Show Before the walls of Babylon rose in air. Low, languid hills were heaped against the sky, And white bones marked the walls of alkali, When suddenly down the lion-path a sound, The wild man-odor then a crouch, a bound, And the frail thing fell quivering with a cry. Your yellow eyes burned beautiful with light; The dead man lay there open-eyed and white; I roared one triumph over the desert wide, Then stretched out, glad of the sands and satisfied; sat-isfied; And through the long, star-stilled Assyrian night, I felt your body breathing by my side. Edwin Markham in August Cosmopolitan. |