Akra the Slave
And desperately I fought,

As fights the boar at bay,

When all the yelling pack,

With lathered lips, and white teeth gnashing,

Is closing in upon him;

And in his quivering flank, and gasping throat,

He feels the fangs of death:

Till, overcome at last,

They bound me hand and foot,

With knotted, leathern thongs;

And dragged me out to where, beneath the trees,

Trussed in like manner, with defiant eyes,

My brothers lay, already, side by side.

They laid me in the shade;

And flicked my wincing spirit

With laughter and light words:

"Now is the roe-buck taken!"

Then another,

On whose dark, sullen face there burned a livid weal

"A buck in flight's a panther brought to bay!"


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