All spellbound in that place.
Again, when he gazed on her beauty,
The heart in his breast was wax;
Again, when he heard her singing,
The thews of his limbs grew lax—
She spun, nor saw him, spinning
A spindle of blood-red flax.
And now the flax was fire,
That wrapped her, skein on skein;
And now a flaming serpent,