Like two flaming stars were his eyes
Like vaporous shapes half seen
Like village curs that bark when their fellows do
Like wasted hours of youth
Like winds that bear sweet music, when they breathe through some dim latticed chamber
Like wine-stain to a flask the old distrust still clings
Like winged stars the fire-flies flash and glance
Like young lovers whom youth and love make dear
Lingering like an unloved guest
Lithe as a panther