The elephant, the huge old beast,

     is slow to mate;

he finds a female, they show no haste

     they wait



for the sympathy in their vast shy hearts

     slowly, slowly to rouse

as they loiter along the river-beds

     and drink and browse



and dash in panic through the brake

     of forest with the herd,

and sleep in massive silence, and wake

     together, without a word.



So slowly the great hot elephant hearts

     grow full of desire,

and the great beasts mate in secret at last,

     hiding their fire.



Oldest they are and the wisest of beasts

     so they know at last

how to wait for the loneliest of feasts

     for the full repast.



They do not snatch, they do not tear;

     their massive blood

moves as the moon-tides, near, more near

     till they touch in flood.