Krishna

A woman's witching face, her ways, her eyes;
A panther's frame, its grace, mayhap its heart;
An eerie mastery of ev'ry art;
A honey-tongue that steep'd all truth in lies
And yet could strip all lies in light of Truth
A smile that mock'd at plight of friend in Woe;
A breast that bled at sight of fallen foe;
Ador'd and yet afear'd of all, in sooth:

Thou tangl'd mass of man and god and brute,
What mortal mind may con thy rainbow-life
That blazed undimm'd mid storms of human strife,
And glean the wisdom of thy madd'ning flute,
Thy love-lit crimes, thy kindly cruelties,
Thou paradox for all eternities!