William Blake (1757-1827) the famous pre-Romantic poet is well known for his poem The Tiger. His lesser known works in his follow-up book of poetry, The Bloomsbury Book of the Dead, continued his love of all things feline.
The Lion
LION, lion, fleet of foot
In the savannah eating moot
What emotion do you exude?
From temples painted gold
In the grassland horizon peaks
Solely looking for food to eat
On the currents of our creator
Find thyself by intelligent painter
Focus eye of baring teeth
Focus time on Hampstead Heath
And where does my heart dread
A solemn pace your pawprint treads
The roar is piercing and anthemic
Brings me to my knees cathartic
Consider closely foal of many
Leave my mind and hearts aplenty
And nightfall comes quickly, quietly
Turn my head to see thy eye
Quickly, quickly unlatch the clasp
Quietly, quickly come to pass
Lion, lion, fleet of foot
In the savannah eating moot
What emotion do you exude?
From temples painted gold
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One is moved to interpret this poem on many levels, with which I won't bore you here. Such understated complexity.
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