In the cruel garrison of affection 
If worth of lore is true 
You know the face of a temptress 
Pit viper 

A witch or enchantress 
Pit viper 

With the malign venom of conceit 
She tries 
Civil men 
Conceal fear 
When night entreats them 
A greater chill sustains 
Stains her 
Shall not inhibit death blow 

Know this skin does not restrict her 
Tear and shed the coil 
Fall of garland leaves 
Below the soil