THE cat has danced behind the Veil,
Beyond the Drove of Sacred Trees,
On fur-toed pads which marked a trail
Across the courts of mysteries.
Because of yellow baleful eyes
The sorcerer in chains has hung;
The milk-dry cattle know those cries;
The world has seen that tongue.
The careless paws that-daylight shows
Conceal the barbs of midnight gait,
Of midnight paths on which he goes
Seeking his wild Satanic mate.
And now he bends before his plate,
The black mouth licking bare and neat
The fish who died upon the bait
That Pussycat might eat.