Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature By Charles Mackay |
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| IX. | No. IX.—THE FAIR SERPENT. |
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 | Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature |  |
140
No. IX.—THE FAIR SERPENT.
I look o'er the midnight pavement,
“And the pricking of my thumbs”
Tells me, before I see it,
That something wicked comes.
It winds, it trails, it hisses,
It flashes in the light,
And gleams with its many colours
Through the darkness of the night.
A serpent, woman-headed,
With loose and floating hair.
Beware, O fool! how you touch it—
Beware for your soul! Beware!
“And the pricking of my thumbs”
Tells me, before I see it,
That something wicked comes.
It winds, it trails, it hisses,
It flashes in the light,
And gleams with its many colours
Through the darkness of the night.
A serpent, woman-headed,
With loose and floating hair.
Beware, O fool! how you touch it—
Beware for your soul! Beware!
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'Tis beautiful to look at
As it rustles through the street,
But its eyes, though bright as sunshine,
Have the glow of hell's own heat;
And worse than the deadly upas
Are the odours of its breath:
Its whispered words are poison,
Its lightest touch is death—
Death to the heart's affection,
Robbery—blight—despair.
Pass on, O fool! and scorn it,
And beware for your soul, beware!
As it rustles through the street,
But its eyes, though bright as sunshine,
Have the glow of hell's own heat;
And worse than the deadly upas
Are the odours of its breath:
Its whispered words are poison,
Its lightest touch is death—
Death to the heart's affection,
Robbery—blight—despair.
Pass on, O fool! and scorn it,
And beware for your soul, beware!
Many a noble bosom
Has that scaly serpent stung
With the darting of its eye-light,
And the witchery of its tongue;
And to feed it and amuse it,
And pamper its greedy maw,
Many a goodly heirship
Has gone like the ice in thaw—
Fortune and wide dominion
Have melted into air.
Pass on, O fool! nor touch it,
And beware for your soul, beware!
Has that scaly serpent stung
With the darting of its eye-light,
And the witchery of its tongue;
And to feed it and amuse it,
And pamper its greedy maw,
Many a goodly heirship
Has gone like the ice in thaw—
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Have melted into air.
Pass on, O fool! nor touch it,
And beware for your soul, beware!
'T will dance, and frisk, and gambol
As long as you pipe and pay,
But as soon as your heart grows weary
'T will turn on you and slay.
'T will murmur soft sweet music,
To draw you to its mesh,
And coil about you fondly,
To feed upon your flesh.
Beware of this flaunting Gorgon,
With the snakes in her wavy hair!
Beware, O fool! how you touch her—
Beware for your soul, beware!
As long as you pipe and pay,
But as soon as your heart grows weary
'T will turn on you and slay.
'T will murmur soft sweet music,
To draw you to its mesh,
And coil about you fondly,
To feed upon your flesh.
Beware of this flaunting Gorgon,
With the snakes in her wavy hair!
Beware, O fool! how you touch her—
Beware for your soul, beware!
| Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature | |