AS a bell in a chime
Sets its twin-note a-ringing,
As one poet’s rhyme
Wakes another to singing,
So, once she has smiled,
All your thoughts are beguiled,
And flowers and song from your childhood are bringing.

Though moving through sorrow
As the star through the night,
She needs not to borrow,
She lavishes, light.
The path of yon star
Seemeth dark but afar:
Like hers it is sure, and like hers it is bright.

Each grace is a jewel
Would ransom the town;
Her speech has no cruel,
Her praise is renown;
’T is in her as though Beauty,
Resigning to Duty
The sceptre, had still kept the purple and crown.