By Elizabeth Coatsworth
He stood before her tall and very strong.
The swine and tigers crouched about her feet
And licked them.
His glance upon her was indifferent,
Whereat her gray eyes blazed with sudden joy,
Eager she stretched her arms out, radiant,
Her mouth grown sweet and tender, all her form
Trembling with hope. Her very smile rejoiced,
Then quivered at his kindled look.
E’er he had reached the spot where yet she stood
Her joy had smouldered out.
“Your eyes are like a beast’s,” young Circe said.
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