Old Devil, when you come with horns and tail, <br />With diabolic grin and crafty leer; <br />I say, such bogey-man devices wholly fail <br />To waken in my heart a single fear. <br /> <br />But when you wear a form I know so well, <br />A form so human, yet so near divine; <br />'Tis then I fall beneath the magic of your spell, <br />'Tis then I know the vantage is not mine. <br /> <br />Ah! when you take your horns from off your head, <br />And soft and fragrant hair is in their place; <br />I must admit I fear the tangled path I tread <br />When that dear head is laid against my face. <br /> <br />And at what time you change your baleful eyes <br />For stars that melt into the gloom of night, <br />All of my courage, my dear fellow, quickly flies; <br />I know my chance is slim to win the fight. <br /> <br />And when, instead of charging down to wreck <br />Me on a red-hot pitchfork in your hand, <br />You throw a pair of slender arms about my neck, <br />I dare not trust the ground on which I stand. <br /> <br />Whene'er in place of using patent wile, <br />Or trying to frighten me with horrid grin, <br />You tempt me with two crimson lips curved in a smile; <br />Old Devil, I must really own, you win.<br /><br />James Weldon Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-temptress-3/
