THE DAGGER
I love thee dagger mine, thou sure defence—
I love the beauty of thy glitter cold,
A brooding Georgian whetted thee for war,
Forged for revenge thou wert by Khirgez bold.
A lily hand, in parting's silent woe,
Gave thee to me in morning's twilight shade;
Instead of blood, I saw thee first be-dewed
With sorrow's tear-pearls flowing o'er thy blade.
Two dusky eyes so true and pure of soul,
Mute in the throe of love's mysterious pain—
Like thine own steel within the fire's glow,
Flashed forth to me—then faded dull again.
For a soul-pledge thou wert by love appointed,
In my life's night to guide me to my end;
Stedfast and true my heart shall be forever,
Like thee, like thee, my steely hearted friend!