Necklace At Her Throat

There lies a necklace at her throat,
Rich with pearls and rich with gold.
When I asked her who gave her such
(Meaning who would be so bold),
She touched it, and a note
Of shyness crept into her hold.
I did not like that little touch;
I did not like she had been sold.

If such things will win my lady,
How should I win her heart?
I cannot afford gold or pearls;
I cannot afford jewels that dart
Light when removed from shady
Places where they are set apart.
I cannot afford nets to adorn her curls
Rich with examples of jeweler's art.

I worry and I wonder;
I watch the necklace lying there,
And notice how the shades reflect
Her white skin and golden hair.
Someone has done me under,
Has told her he finds her fair,
By finding something to perfect
What beauty her features wear.

I try to convince myself
That the pearls are gaudy jewels,
And the gold not so rich as that.
I try to tell myself that pools
Of color are not found on a shelf,
That he cannot win with such base tools
As wealth drawn from a hat;
That her heart to her suitor cools.

But she touches that necklace still,
Her heart dreamy, eyes far away.
Her fingers run over pearls and gold;
They shimmer like moonlight and day.
I could her wealthy suitor kill;
He plays a game I cannot play.
He will win, and her heart hold,
And my heart with her will stay.

Well, there is yet one game
That I have the heart to try.
I will offer her up my heart,
And see what sparkles in her eye:
The jewels that from one lover came,
Or the love that makes me sigh.
It may be she loves works of art,
And that away from her I fly.

But if she loves jewels so,
Then I must learn not to love
Her who for hearts does not care.
I will go to her, pure as a dove,
And offer my heart up like clean snow
For her to walk on, or fly above.
I love her, and she is fair;
Either way, I will be free of

This deep loss that torments me.
The necklace that started this
And took me from my sweet dreams
Flashes at her throat like bliss.
Perhaps, after all, from reverie
It has taken me in time; I might miss
My chance if I do not snatch at gleams,
At hopes of freedom, or a kiss.