The Peacock What does he feed on, this stalking festival, with a gaze perpetually startled, and a bearing so assertively free of nest or boundary that he is either witless or emperor of all? Even the canary’s aria is flat beside his scarlet cry, and he drags his multicolored mantle like so much excess of no use but to steady the progress of his parade. The trailing ma (...)
Poetry
Three Poems
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