Stories to tremble at and flee—
And others worth a tear.
I thought of how a maiden man
Might hear a deadly song
And clasp a siren in his span,
And feel her kiss grow strong
To drag him with caresses wan
Into the House of Wrong.
Another: how the women grew
Like vines of tender grape,
And how they laughed as lovers do,
And took a lover’s shape,
And how men sought them, free to woo—
To leave them, no escape!
Another: how a golden cup
A golden girl would pour,
And whoso laughed and drank it up
Grew wise and warrior :
But whoso stayed to smile and sup
Returned—ah, never more!
And yet again—a river steep,
A maiden combing light,
Her hair’s enchantment—she would weep
And sing for love’s delight,
Until the listener dropped to sleep
In magic of her night.
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