The Leopard Mansion
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We hear the leopards pacing in the hall;
their breath dampens the priceless draperies,
softly, softly, their black paws lift and fall.
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The rosewood thickness of our bedroom wall
can't shield us. Through parquets, beams, galleries,
we hear the leopards pacing in the hall;
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and all we know, the leopard learns, and all
our gilt barriers give. They go where they please,
softly, softly, their slim paws lift and fall.
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Their bony rhythm is not beautiful,
we dread to hear their muscles cock and ease,
we fear the leopards crouching in the hall.
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Don't listen! Outside, poppies line the mall;
by garden gates there hang no tapestries
where restlessly the bright claws scrape and fall;
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But tapestries may show jungles, and tall,
humid black cats that quicken, that release
the trapped and splendid leopards in the hall.
Listen! Listen! The treadles rise and fall.
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