Classic Poem

When Nigger Dick and Hell-for-Women slouched
Into the taproom of the Duck and De'il,
The three Dalmatian pups slunk in at heel
And down among the slushy sawdust crouched;
But Mabel would not leave the windy street
For any gaudy tavern's reek and heat —
Not she! — for Mabel was no spotted dog
To crawl among the steaming muddy feet
Beneath a bench and slumber like a log.

And so she set her hoofs and stayed outside,
Though Hell-for-Women pushed the swing-door wide
And Mabel darling! Mabel darling! cried,
And Nigger Dick thrust out his head and cursed
Until his tongue burned with so hot a thirst
He turned and swore that he'd not split his throat
To save the soul of any giddy goat.

And then they left her, stubborn wild and white,
Snuffing the wet air of the windy night;
And, as she stood beneath a cold blue star
That pierced the narrow strip of midnight sky
Between the sleeping houses black and high,
The glare and glitter of the reeking bar
And all the filth and squalor of the street
Were blotted out ...
And she was lost between
The beetling crags of some deep dark ravine
In Andalusian solitudes of stone,
A trembling, young, bewildered nanny-goat
Within the cold blue heart of night alone —
Until her ears pricked, tingling to a bleat,
As, far above her on a naked scar,
The dews of morning dripping from his beard,
Rejoicing in his strength the herd-king reared,
Shaking the darkness from his shaggy coat.