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 them—dread, Mystical, ineffable of presence—said, "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...JOHNNY SPAIN'S WHITE HEIFER by HAYDEN CARRUTH NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY SURFACES AND MASKS; 2 by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DIPPOLD THE OPTICIAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |