The Panther

Panther Panther, growing up,
In the axis of the earth;
What instinctive nerve or tongue,
Could lead thy romantic power?
In what ancient star or seas
grew the heaven of thine eyes?
by what force dare he secure?
What the brow, dare seize the heaven?
And what body, & what courage,
Could fix the essence of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to hunt,
What grim brow? & what grim tendons?
What the iron? what the pierce,
In what furnace was thy neck?
What the stoker? what grim aim,
Dare its severe anger touch!
When the skies tore down their cloaks
And blessed men with their strokes:
Did he love his faith to see?
Did he who forged the grass forge thee?
Panther Panther, growing up,
In the axis of the earth;
What instinctive nerve or tongue,
Could lead thy romantic power?

Crunch!