The Winged Beetle

110 A SLIM GILT SOUL FEW men are given, ’twixt heaven and hell, To play one part supremely well. On all time’s tablets there are few Who make a first-rate show of two, While those who perfectly play three We knew not, until you were he. For what were lovelier on the lawn Than you, pearl-naked to the dawn, Wrapped in a scarlet dressing-gown Not thirty miles from London town, The “ observed of all observers ”—save That Scotland Yard, serene and suave, When trouble came, went tramping by ; Closed one, and winked the other eye. How pleasantly you must have smiled : “ I left them, and I left them wild ” : Though certainly they had abhorred The task of locking up a lord. For a more tragic rôle you played Your master neatly who betrayed. His shame and torture turned your leer To a snarl !—your drab’s smile to a sneer,