She sought for love!
Listen! listen!
Oh, the ways of love are bold,
And the guiles of love are old.
The coins were wrapped in a paper; it had a voice of its own. "To-night, when the gong chimes one, the seeker will find a kiss, in the twelve-doored marble summer-house bowered in roses." Alone in the garden I read it. I saw not the snake hid in the bushes with unwinking, venomous eyes. "This to my mistress," he laughed, "and to-night, when the clock chimes one, he dies; for the Rani sought love, and he gave her but words. What are words in exchange for the jewels she gave as a bride? The jewels he steals from the Queen when he leaves us to-morrow."
Lies, lies! nothing but lies from the snake!
The sun gives gold he does not take.
Lies! lies!
Heart of my heart! what are words and tears to a snake? And the sun far, far from the rose; too far for a warning. Listen! the rose has thorns to protect her blossoms; a woman has guiles and smiles to protect her lover. "What matters a kiss at one?" said I. "Take yours at eleven, in the twelve-doored marble summer-house bowered in roses."
Hai! the greed and lust in his look.
The greed at the baited hook!
He saw not the thorn.
But the Rose saw his lying soul; she knew he would take his kiss, and betray her when it was over. She knew that with venomous snakes there is no safety but death. One and eleven when figured on paper show little of change. A stroke, a scratch of a thorn! No need for more than a scratch, ere the paper was lost by the maiden and found by her mistress. Lost by the guile of one woman, found in the path of another.
Oh, heart! waiting 'mid the flowers,
Counting out the hours
Till the snake's kiss!