My God! He leaped to clutch my throat,
A wicked dagger in his hand!
That lifted knife! Ah, yet I feel
A horror of the deadly thing!
The long, keen blade of polished steel
Against the white stars quivering.
I upward sprang—I grasped somehow
The hand that held the hilt of bone;
With panther strength he struggled now,
A demon I must fight—alone!