All silently he paces back and forth
Within the narrow confines of his cell­—
A hungry panther hidden in my heart.
I do not hear his steps, but, then, full well
I know he’s there, for many, many times
I feel his cushioned feet upon the floor
As wearily he makes his endless round
And sometimes puts his paws against the door.

At night when shadows lurk within his cage,
Two strange lights gleam and glow like balls of fire­—
His eyes in fruitless searching penetrate
The darkness with their hunger and desire.
Well-trained, he does not vent his passions fierce
When thoughts of broken dreams would haunt him sore,
His rage is spent; a captive he is held:
To gain his freedom now he tries no more.

This panther is a phantom in my heart,
And knows no life apart from that I give.
‘Tis only as I loose the chains of thought
That he has any power thus to live.