The Traitor

I saw him pass at twilight;

He was a dark cloud travelling

Over palace roofs

With one claw drooping.

In his face were written ages

Of patient treachery

And the knowledge of his hour.

One dainty thrust, no more

Than this, he needs.

[52]

[52]

 The Fop

His heart is like a wind

Torn between cloud and butterfly;

Whether he will roll passively to one,

Or chase endlessly the other.

[53]

[53]

 Changing Love

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