A song and harp-string to a song,
Love's battle in my blood. And there,
Kissing her mouth, all unaware
The ruby loosened at her throat,
And, ere I wist, hung o'er my hand,
And on the brink I seemed to stand
Of something that cried out, "Admire
The beauty of this gem of fire,
Its witchcraft and its workmanship."
Then from her throat it seemed to slip,