Sweeney Among The Nightingales by: T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

        APENECK Sweeney spreads his knees
        Letting his arms hang down to laugh,
        The zebra stripes along his jaw
        Swelling to maculate giraffe.
        
        The circles of the stormy moon
        Slide westward toward the River Plate,
        Death and the Raven drift above
        And Sweeney guards the horned gate.
        
        Gloomy Orion and the Dog
        Are veiled; and hushed the shrunken seas;
        The person in the Spanish cape
        Tries to sit on Sweeney's knees
        
        Slips and pulls the table cloth
        Overturns a coffee-cup,
        Reorganized upon the floor
        She yawns and draws a stocking up;
        
        The silent man in mocha brown
        Sprawls at the window-sill and gapes;
        The waiter brings in oranges
        Bananas figs and hothouse grapes;
        
        The silent vertebrate in brown
        Contracts and concentrates, withdraws;
        Rachel née Rabinovitch
        Tears at the grapes with murderous paws;
        
        She and the lady in the cape
        Are suspect, thought to be in league;
        Therefore the man with heavy eyes
        Declines the gambit, shows fatigue,
        
        Leaves the room and reappears
        Outside the window, leaning in,
        Branches of wistaria
        Circumscribe a golden grin;
        
        The host with someone indistinct
        Converses at the door apart,
        The nightingales are singing near
        The Convent of the Sacred Heart,
        
        And sang within the bloody wood
        When Agamemnon cried aloud,
        And let their liquid droppings fall
        To stain the stiff dishonoured shroud.