TINGED with the blood of Aztec lands, Sphinx-like, the tawny herdsman stands, A coiled reata in his hands. Devoid of hope, devoid of fear, Half brigand and half cavalier, -- This helot, with imperial grace, Wears ever on his tawny face A sad, defiant look of pain. Left by the fierce iconoclast A living fragment of the past, Greek of the Greeks he must remain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON FOR A DEAD LADY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EPITAPH by KENNETH SLADE ALLING FALLING STARS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE FALL OF THE LEAVES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. WHO BUT THE LOVER SHOULD KNOW by EDWARD CARPENTER |