She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
This line’s metaphor greatly contrasts  the first line , wherein the woman was neither dead or alive, but either way, lacking colorful features. 
 This line is synonymous  the fourth line , where her mouth is described as sweet and made of fantasy and love. 
 But the next part takes an unexpected turn–apparently her words are not only lovely, but also  has the ability to lead you into the sea, and drown.
Witch-Wife