A COLD coiled line of mottled lead, He lies where grazing cattle tread, And lifts a fanged and spiteful head. His touch is deadly, and his eyes Are hot with hatred and surprise -- Death waits and watches where he lies! His hate is turned toward everything! He is the undisputed king Of every path and woodland spring. His naked fang is raised to smite All passing things; light Is not swifter than his bite. His touch is deadly, and his eyes Are hot with hatred and surprise -- Death waits and watches where he lies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VENUS OF THE LOUVRE by EMMA LAZARUS THE TWO OLD BACHELORS by EDWARD LEAR BELISARIUS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PASA THALASSA THALASSA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON MEDITATION AT KEW by ANNA WICKHAM SURCEASE by ALICE GARDNER ADAMS THE SPIRIT'S WARFARE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 36 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |