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<h1>THE PANTHER</h1>
<h2>RAINER MARIA RILKE</h2>
<br/>
His weary glance, from passing by the bars,<br/>
Has grown into a dazed and vacant stare;<br/>
It seems to him there are a thousand bars<br/>
And out beyond those bars the empty air.<br/>
<br/>
The pad of his strong feet, that ceaseless sound<br/>
Of supple tread behind the iron bands,<br/>
Is like a dance of strength circling around,<br/>
While in the circle, stunned, a great will stands.<br/>
<br/>
But there are times the pupils of his eyes<br/>
Dilate, the strong limbs stand alert, apart,<br/>
Tense with the flood of visions that arise<br/>
Only to sink and die within his heart.<br/>
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