The beautiful dancing-women wove their maze, With many a swift lascivious leer and lure For the hot theatre, whose myriad gaze Burned on their shamelessness with eyes impure. Then one that watched unseen among themdread, Mystical, ineffable of presencesaid, "Patience! And leave me these poor wanton ones: Soon they shall lie as meek and cold as nuns; And you that hire them here to tempt your lust Shall be as all the saints are, in the dust." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 148 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE YOUNG GRAY HEAD by CAROLINE ANNE BOWLES SOUTHEY BOTHWELL: PART 1 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE WALNUT-TREE OF BOARSTELL: CANTO 2 by WILLIAM BASSE A SOUL'S TRAGEDY; A DRAMA by ROBERT BROWNING |