Among the Rice Fields

She was fair as a Passion-flower,

( But little of love he knew. )

Her lucent eyes were like amber wine,

And her eyelids stained with blue.

He called them the Gates of Fair Desire,

And the Lakes where Beauty lay,

But I looked into them once, and saw

The eyes of Beasts of Prey.

He praised her teeth, that were small and white

As lilies upon his lawn,

While I remembered a tiger's fangs

That met in a speckled fawn.

She had her way; a lover the more,

And I had a friend the less.

For long there was nothing to do but wait

And suffer his happiness.

But now I shall choose the sharpest Kriss

And nestle it in her breast,

For dead, he is drifting down to sea,

And his own hand wrought his rest