'Tis plate of rare device and jewels Of rich and exquisite form, their values great, And I am something curious, being strange, To have them in sale stowage.

A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right!

Take that life, beseech you, Which I so often owe; but your ring first, And here the bracelet of the truest princess That ever swore her faith.

Not on one strand are all life's jewels strung.

Who first beholds the light of day In Spring's sweet flowery month of May And wears an Emerald all her life, Shall be a loved and happy wife.

Who in this world of ours their eyes In March first open shall be wise; In days of peril firm and brave, And wear a Bloodstone to their grave.