Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel

(1834-1894 / England)

The Lion - Poem by Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel

A LION once, a mightiest male lion,
Whom my good rifle's bullet had but maim'd,
Sprang in his wrath; one huge and ponderous paw,
Striking my shoulder, hurl'd me under him.
Over me stood the vast dilated beast
Growling; his paw weigh'd on my shatter'd shoulder;
His great eyes glower'd; his fangs gleam'd terrible;
Like a simoom, his breathing scorch'd my face;
With tawny wilderness of mane aroused,
Frowning, aloft he swung his tufted tail.
But God removed all terrors and all pain:
When the brute shook me, numb indifference
Stole over all my being, while I watch'd;
Yea, look'd into the formidable eyes!
(So Love tempers inevitable blows
Of Fate for all the sons of suffering):
A comrade fires; the lion springs on him;
Then fainting staggers,- ponderous falls - and dies.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 22, 2010



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