A dull eyed rattlesnake that lay All loathsome, yellow-skinned, and slept, Coil'd tight as pine-knot, in the sun With flat head through the center run, Struck blindly back.
The sun is dying; space and room. Serenity, vast sense of rest, Lie bosomed in the orange west Of Orient waters. Hear the boom Of long, strong billows; wave on wave, Like funeral guns above a grave.
Who tamed your lawless Tartar blood? What David bearded in her den The Russian bear in ages when You strode your black, unbridled stud, A skin-clad savage of your steppes?...