Babylon the Great

Foul is she and ill-favoured, set askew:

Gaze not upon her till thou dream her fair,

Lest she should mesh thee in her wanton hair,

Adept in arts grown old yet ever new.

Her heart lusts not for love, but thro' and thro'

For blood, as spotted panther lusts in lair;

No wine is in her cup, but filth is there

Unutterable, with plagues hid out of view.

Gaze not upon her, for her dancing whirl

Turns giddy the fixed gazer presently:

Gaze not upon her, lest thou be as she

When, at the far end of her long desire,

Her scarlet vest and gold and gem and pearl

And she amid her pomp are set on fire.