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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. Rh