And, with a lion's courtesy and grace,
As one in forest knighthood and fairly taught,
With lowly lofty mien, and gentle pace,
He moves, and as he moves recalls a well–loved face.

With the old feeling the old thought comes back,
And the glad lion hails his friend once more:
Love sheaths his talons opening for attack,
Till he that late had slain would now adore.
He knows those hands, and licks them o'er and o'er;
That kind low voice, those gracious eyes he knows;
And feeding on the pleasant thoughts of yore,
He fawns, as once in that old Forest
Such kindness to the man the grateful lion shows.

Nor less Androclus hails his sylvan friend,
But with true love his old acquaintance greets:
Strange scenes revive, long wavering branches bend
O'er a dim cave in the wild wood's retreats,
Where all the forest emperors have their seats,
Where erst one kind good lion gave him rest,
Protected, fed him, brought him dainty meats,
Old times revive; caressing and caress'd,
The lion and the man their mutual joy attest.

But, hark! a voice like ocean murmurs round;
The universal shout of Rome is there,
And all that mighty and tumultuous sound
Flies eddying back upon the ringing air.
Some bless the gods that work this marvel fair,
Some praise the lion. But the people cries,
"Grace, grace for man and beast! Spare, Emperor,
      spare!"
"Grace, grace for both!" the lord of Rome replies.
"Ho, lictor! call the slave: nor man nor lion
      dies!"

In that imperial presence bows the slave,
And there is stillness as when men lie dead,
Or as when Death himself near some fresh grave
Passes, and all stand hush'd to hear his tread:
So, with still face, and downward listening head,
The living city round her sovereign stands.
"Tell, thou," the world's majestic master said,
"From what far depths of undiscover'd lands,
What forest shades unknown, or realms of desart
      sands,

"Thou and thy strange companion here are come,
And how a man and lion first were friends.
What dear remember'd ties, what common home,
What mutual impulses, or kindred ends,
Could link you in one fate? What genius lends
A lion such sweet soul, and to a man
Such tender care, and such high grace extends?"
From side to side the applauding murmur ran;
Then ceased the world's great lord, and thus the
      slave began:

"My master, in the years dead long ago,
Held golden realms in Afric, far away,
But nought of human ruth his heart might know,
For it was cold as winter frore and gray,
So I, his slave, was tortured night and day,
And tears and only sorrow were my food.
I hoped, but hope will pine for long delay,
I pray'd, but the deaf gods unpitying stood;
Desperate, at length I fled to secret rock and wood.

"Over the barren fiery sands I wander'd,
'Mid the blue panic of the changeless sky;
And, as my starless destiny I ponder'd,
Careless of life I grew, and wish'd to die,—
The great, the noble pass, and why not I?
Then hope revived, that leaves not king nor slave,
And fairer now it seem'd to fight than fly
In that great battle won but by the brave:
Swift as my thought I rose to seek some sheltering
      cave.

"Far off, far off, it lay, near flowing waters,
Veil'd amid grasses sheath'd with spear–like halm,
Where flowers of gorgeous hue, earth's regal
      daughters,
White, scarlet, orange, scent the air with balm,
Where lithe and arrowy stands the plumed palm,
Still in the dread blue glare of blinding noon;
Here, when night dropp'd her shadow black but
      calm,
With weary eyes and heart all out of tune,
I saw that welcome cave beneath the full–faced
      moon.

"Scarce had I enter'd, scarce an opening found
Where the pale light and vesper wind might pass,
When, glancing o'er the witch–like landscape round,
I saw, slow–moving through the blood–dropp'd
      grass,
A wounded lion creep. 'Woe and alas!
This death is come for me!' aghast I cried;
'But where yon water drowns the wild morass,
From all the ills that mortal life betide,
That refuge will I seek which men and gods
      provide! '

"But, lo! a wonder! for, with lingering pace,
The deadly lion comes, subdued and meek,
And human–like, looks in my human face,
And seems as he with human voice would speak;
And then, like some huge wave broken and weak,
Throws his gaunt length upon the cave's rude floor,
And as man's aid some wounded child may seek.
The gentle beast sought mine. 'The gods restore
The golden years,' I cried, 'and Love is king once
      more!'

"He raised his suffering foot, he held it near,
While from the wound the cause of pain I drew;
And then, as use and converse lessen'd fear,
And mutual trust 'twixt man and lion grew,
I press'd the sore, I bathed and cleansed it, too,
Till pure of gravel and sharp fretting sand;
Then did the princely king his strength renew,
And, free from pain, in child–like meekness grand
He slept, his loving foot still resting in my hand.

"For three long years the lion was my mate,
The sentinel who watch' d my sleeping hours,
And in our desert realm and lonely state
True brother kings were we, and loving powers;
And often would I garland him with flowers,
And stroke his head, and plait his tawny mane;
And oft would he, 'mid reeds and sylvan bowers,
Hunt the swift prey, and to our hermit reign
With food for his dear mate would still return
      again.

"And evermore the daintiest share was mine
Of all the game the royal hunter took;
I made the sun my fire, his flame divine
Stealing Prometheus–like; the crystal brook
Cool'd my parch'd lips, while still, with earnest
      look,
The lion near me crouch'd, or with me fed,
And in my face, as in an open book,
Each flitting thought or changing fancy read,
Or slumber'd by my side, or follow'd where I led.