Fate smashed the reeling struggle to the ropes,
Poised for the knockout; hurled his brute attack,
—And suddenly was lying on his back—
“Nine—Ten!” the slow words came like punctured hopes—
Laughing I clapped, and winked at languid Love.
I knew he had a star inside his glove!
DEVOURER OF NATIONS
“Strength shall be thrust to the Eater,
And down to the Strong One, sweet.”
Was ever a proverb neater,