132. MARCO AURELIO ANTONIO

MARCO AURELIO ANTONIO ATONITO (175.4 ++ = 14.2 = 189.6) Her curls flushed sunset of an oak forest A perennial foam under the sea of figurations. There surely the legions rode What the Syrian Parthians contained And the treacherous Teutons.

His arched eyebrows enveloped the proper flank; The less well off those without bread, Beneath them a barefoot boy read Perplexed in his girls Chance of other lands, other haughtiness, of other races, In the sunset of golden pallor Vivacious bell tower in a warm plain.

His fine nose shaped all instincts. Fears of the one lost in the forest Sniff the rabbit play And the Christian that his dream usually assaults.