Would play their melodramas in the trees,
And throbbing swarms of honey-sucking bees
Vibrate the petalled air in droning waves,
And mingle with the murmuring of slaves.
When shadow night is poisoned by the fangs
Of daily death, with new redoubled pangs
She crackles up in films of aëry haze,
Until the reeling sun with outworn rays
Is hacked to slivers and his regal veins
Spurt crimson jets of flame along the plains,