 | The Poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich |  |
236
THE AMULET.
Though thou wert cunninger than Vivien,—Faithful as Enid,—fair as Guinevere,—
Pure as Elaine,—I should not hold thee dear.
Count me not cold, decorous, unlike men!
Indeed the time was, and not long since, when—
But 't is not now. An amulet I 've here
Saves me. A ring. Observe: within this sphere
Of chiselled gold a jewel is set. What then?
Why, this,—the stone and setting cannot part,
Unless one 's broken. See with what a grace
The diamond dewdrop sinks into the white
Tulip-shaped calyx, and o'erfloods it quite!
There is a Lady set so in my heart
There 's not for any other any place.
| The Poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | |