The Puma

Puma Puma, going down,
In the deserts of the night;
What instinctive teeth or leg,
Could beat thy vibrant dignity?
In what brilliant sun or seas
went the spider of thine lips?
on what wings dare he effect?
What the jaw, dare seize the spider?
And what tendon, & what freedom,
Could mould the tendons of thy mouth?
And when thy mouth began to feed,
What harsh jaw? & what harsh eyebrow?
What the chisel? what the weld,
In what waxmold was thy thigh?
What the model? what harsh rule,
Dare its stormy terrors twist!
When the suns threw down their rage
And stunned humans with their weight:
Did he beam his craft to see?
Did he who formed the wasp form thee?
Puma Puma, going down,
In the deserts of the night;
What instinctive teeth or leg,
Could beat thy vibrant dignity?

Crunch!