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Arthur Symons - Rings
Work rating: Low

I have a morbid fear of these my ancient rings. 
Have I not found subtle poison in many a gem? 
This serpent, see how abominably he stings! 
This opal that I love, more for its intricate flame 
Than for its changing colours, shoots forth fires; 
This paler sapphire, Cesare Borgia`s ring 
That hid the translucent poison of desires 
That eat one up beyond imagining: 
Of these I endure the intolerable agonies. 
Some die of them, some say, but I say no. 
The spirit has more tenebrous maladies 
Then the hard-hearted hearts of witches know. 
Of certain stones I am hallucinated. 
The Devil`s in me; and my intense luxury 
Stings me like ardent fires that stir the dead: 
Shall all these evil visions be the end of me?
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