I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others read more

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

Who first beholds the light of day
In Spring's sweet flowery month of May
And wears an read more

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.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

Who comes with Summer to this earth
And owes to June her day of birth,
With ring read more

Who comes with Summer to this earth
And owes to June her day of birth,
With ring of Agate on her hand,
Can health, wealth, and long life command.

A maiden born when Autumn leaves
Are rustling in September's breeze,
A Sapphire on her brow should read more

A maiden born when Autumn leaves
Are rustling in September's breeze,
A Sapphire on her brow should bind,
'Twill cure diseases of the mind.

Loud is the summer's busy song
The smallest breeze can find a tongue,
While insects of each read more

Loud is the summer's busy song
The smallest breeze can find a tongue,
While insects of each tiny size
Grow teasing with their melodies,
Till noon burns with its blistering breath
Around, and day lies still as death.

Who in this world of ours their eyes
In March first open shall be wise;
In days read more

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.

It strikes! one, two,
Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,
Thy pulse hath beat enough. read more

It strikes! one, two,
Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,
Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest;
Would thou could'st make the time to do so too;
I'll wind thee up no more.

October's child is born for woe,
And life's vicissitudes must know;
But lay on Opal on her read more

October's child is born for woe,
And life's vicissitudes must know;
But lay on Opal on her breast,
And hope will lull those woes to rest.