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Joyous she was, and ever gay,
Though an occasional April day
Would steal across her heaven. For her
The flames were bright and beautiful,
And each tongue seemed to minister
A pleasant warmth unto her soul;
Her light-breathed laughter drove them back
To line the path her feet would track,
Her sunny tears reflected them.
Ah, happy, happy, wayward child,
Bright contradiction, when you smiled
Upon the flames, they danced in glee,
Or crept to kiss and clasp your knee,
As suppliants subdued and tame.
How did you pass those fiery ways,
And come from out the midmost blaze
No smell of burning on your hair?
Because my love o'ershadowed you,
Because your heart was pure and true
Where'er you were.
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