Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/90

78 :Made you long: for its odorous breath;
 * But ah! 'twas to take
 * To your bosom a snake,
 * For its pestilent fragrance was death.

And I saw it again, in a far northern land,—
 * Not a pansy, not purple and white;
 * Yet in beauteous guise
 * Did this poison-plant rise.
 * Fair and fatal again to my sight.

And men longed for her kiss and her odorous breath
 * When no friend was beside them to tell
 * That to kiss was to die,
 * That her truth was a lie.
 * And her beauty a soul-killing spell.