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Poem by Charles Tennyson Turner The Lion’s Skeleton HOW long, O lion, hast thou fleshless lain? What rapt thy fierce and thirsty eyes away? First came the vulture; worms, heat, wind, and rain Ensued, and ardors of the tropic day. I know not—if they spared it thee—how long The canker sate within thy monstrous mane, Till it fell piecemeal, and bestrewed the plain, Or, shredded by the storming sands, was flung Again to earth: but now thine ample front, Whereon the great frowns gathered, is laid bare; The thunders of thy throat, which erst were wont To scare the desert, are no longer there: Thy claws remain; but worms, wind, rain, and heat Have sifted out the substance of thy feet. Charles Tennyson Turner Charles Tennyson Turner's other poems: 1194 Views |
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