The Collar

Who taught fair Cleopatra how to bring

Mark Antony to her knees- the touch of love,

As soft as velvet, that could stroke the wing

Of a butterfly and take no powder of;

The gentle purr that made eternal Rome,

With all its marble, melt in that sweet sound,

And vanish like the mist, when it has come

Into a man’s full height above the ground?

When I see how a cat has, even now,

With its own body curled and crouching low,

Made a large, heavy collar, soft and warm,

For that girl’s neck, I think, with no alarm,

If, young one, that’s your friend- as it was Hers-

I’ll watch you round the corner of my fears.