Roger of Sicily to Azalais

Thou hast the silence and imperial tread,

The strong and supple beauty of a pard;

And oft I wish that I had had thee barr'd

In some firm cage, and feel a strange vague dread.

At times I fancy that thy eye-balls shed

Green fire at night; and that, when off my guard,

Some day thou'lt spring, and hold me in thy hard

Relentless grip with all thy claws dyed red.

Some say that there are beings in human shape,

Who, having been wild beasts without a soul,

Can take beast form, and oft at night escape:

If such there be, then surely thou must prowl

In thy old semblance, when the thick clouds drape

The sallow moon, to greet her with thy howl.