"O come," the other syren did exclaim,
"For rubies there more red than roses grow -
The sapphir's blue the violet puts to shame."

I rais'd my eyes to heaven's starry dome,
And gripp'd my faulchion with convulsive might,
Resolv'd no witchcraft should my mind o'ercome.

My lengthen'd silence vex'd the maidens sore:
"Wilt thou detain us here the live-long night,
Or must we, stripling, proffer something more?

"Taught by us, thou shalt bind the rugged bear, -
Seize on the mighty dragon's heap of gold, -
And slay the cockatrice while in her lair!

"But from thy breast the blood we will suck out,
Unless thou follow us beneath the mould!
Decide, decide, nor longer pause in doubt!"

Cold sweat I shed, and as, with trembling hand,
I strove to whirl my beaming faulchion round,
It sank, enthrall'd by magic's potent band.

Each witch drew nigh, with dagger high uprear'd;
Just then a cock, beyond the wild wood's bound,
Crew loud--and in the earth they disappear'd.

I flung myself upon my frighten'd barb,
Just as the shades began to grow less murk,