Beating a pathway to our door;A thin noise first, and then a roarMore animal than human grewUpon the air until we knewNo mercy could be in the sound."Quick, hide," I said. I glanced around;But no abyss gaped in the ground.But in the eyes of fear a twigWill seem a tree, a straw as bigTo him who drowns as any raft.So being mad, being quite daft,I shoved him in a closet setAgainst the wall. This would but letHim breathe two minutes more, or three,Before they dragged him out to beQueer fruit upon some outraged tree.Our room was in a moment litWith flaring brands; men crowded it—Old men whose eyes were better sealedIn sleep; strong men with muscles steeledLike rods, whose place was in the field;Striplings like Jim with just a touchOf down upon the chin; for suchMore fitting a secluded hedgeTo lie beneath with one to pledgeIn youth's hot words, immortal love.These things they were not thinking of;
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