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23
THE SALE OF THE WORLD
The world, the fair world, with her bosoms of snow,
Her life-pulses bounding in turbulent flow,
Lies prone in the scale,
Exposed and for sale;
Save for forests of hair
From her temples down-curled,
Exposed to a critical, insolent stare.
Who will buy? Who will bid? Who will weigh up the world?
Who will buy? Who will bid? Who will weigh up the world?
—'Mid the blare of curved trumpets, with banners unfurled,
A Genius takes form
From the breath of the storm—
Tall and gaunt,
