I met a Strange Woman
With things in her arms.
‘What have you got, Woman?
‘Charms,’ she said, ‘charms.’
‘I will put one on you
‘Ere I have done.
‘Which shall I put on you?’
’None ‘ I said, ’none!’
Oh, how she smiled at me.
’Nay, then, my dear,
Look, do but look at them.
What do you fear?’
‘I’ve a black charm for night
And a gold one for noon,
A white charm for winter,
A rose charm for June;’
‘I’ve a green charm for woods,
And a blue one for water,
And a silver for moons
When they’re in their first quarter.’
‘I’ve a slow charm for growth,
And a swift one for birds,
And a soft one for sleep,
And a sweet one for words.’
‘I’ve a long charm for love,
And a strong charm for youth,
And one you can’t change
Or destroy, for the truth.’
’Sorry’s the man my dear,
Sorry, she said,
‘Who wanders through life
With no charm on his head.’
O how she smiled at me.
‘Big one or small,
‘Which shall I put on you?’
‘All,’ I said, ‘all!’
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