Page:Michael Robartes and the Dancer (1920).djvu/21

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
That lofty white stag, leap
From mountain steep to steep.


DEMON AND BEAST
For certain minutes at the least
That crafty demon and that loud beast
That plague me day and night
Ran out of my sight;
Though I had long pernned in the gyre,
Between my hatred and desire,
I saw my freedom won
And all laugh in the sun.

The glittering eyes in a death’s head
Of old Luke Wadding’s portrait said
Welcome, and the Ormonds all
Nodded upon the wall,
And even Stafford smiled as though
It made him happier to know
I understood his plan;
Now that the loud beast ran
There was no portrait in the Gallery
But beckoned to sweet company,
For all men’s thoughts grew clear
Being dear as mine are dear.

17