The beautiful dancing-women wove their maze, With many a swift lascivious leer and lure For the hot theatre, whose myriad gaze Burned on their shamelessness with eyes impure. Then one that watched unseen among them—dread, Mystical, ineffable of presence—said, "Patience! And leave me these poor wanton ones: Soon they shall lie as meek and cold as nuns; And you that hire them here to tempt your lust Shall be as all the saints are, in the dust." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STATUE AND THE BUST by ROBERT BROWNING A,B,C by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7. OF PLEASURE AND PAIN by THOMAS CAMPION TO HESTER [SAVORY] by CHARLES LAMB STILL, STILL WITH THEE by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE |