In circus cages wolves and tigers pace
Forever to and fro. They do not rest,
But seek nervously the longed-for place.
Our picture-jungles would not end their quest,
Or pictures of another tiger's face.
On four square walls men have their world, their strife,
Their painted, framed endeavors, joys and pain;
And two curators known as man and wife
Hang up the sunrise, wipe the dust from rain
And gaze excitedly on painted life.