Old, leering gargoyle looking down, Perched, leaning out from Notre Dame, When Paris was a little town You grinned and leered and looked the same. Half man, half demon, wrought in stone, Some worker dreamed you long ago, And set you leering there alone To watch the world of men below. A monk who thought the air was full Of daemons, chimeras and gnomes, Crowned your head with horns of a bull To fright your kindred from men's homes. And we can fancy how he worked With cunning hand your fiendish face, While one eye twinkled or there lurked A smile the day you took your place. And that was centuries ago; Your maker monk sleeps well, no doubt, And you have watched great Paris grow Beyond her gates the walls without. You thrust your tongue out at the world, Clutching the parapet, the while, Your wings of stone forever furled, Iconoclastically you smile. New generations come, depart, And progress builds your city great, But you leer down at Louvre and mart And we must wonder why you wait. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET; OXFORD, 1916 by GEORGE SANTAYANA A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING A BOY'S SUMMER SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET FOR A PICTURE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THIS COMPOST: 2. by WALT WHITMAN OUR PASSWORD by ISIDORE G. ASCHER VERSES TO SOME FRIENDS RETURNING FROM THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |