The Amulet

Thou twist of gold, woven so curiously, Be filled with warmth and urgent tenderness, And cool not on her throat’s white nakedness, Like metal death, but burn insistently, Reminding her of me! To save her from the serpent’s little eye I set a stone of blue chalcedony Within a cunning loop—so it shall be Aware and mindful when her lashes lie Untaught of danger nigh. To keep her from the dragon’s hungry tooth In seven laps the quorls were subtly twined; From seven rivers grains of gold were mined, Hammered by black elves’ mauls, and tempered sooth In hissing brews uncouth. So lie within my satchel, Amulet, With many another dull and boughten thing, Till I am done with all my wandering And fix thee pendant on the carcanet Around her white neck set. For I have graven some small incantation In feathery lines upon this rounded wire— King Solomon made such for his desire, And Sheba’s throat was warm for subjugation Hearing the King’s translation.