• Were the wandering fire rushes
    Tinting all with maiden blushes
    Giving warmth of own hearts joy
    That’s glosses dim sands with light

    Where the wandering water gushes
    In the pools among the rosses
    And drops cool tears
    Into young streams

    Were the lonely bell does toll
    Amidst the mountain tops
    Whispering to those bellow
    In crooning harshness of falling snow

    Were the blossoms wax and wane
    In soft candle light
    Then crisp and dry to dust again

    There you lie before me
    With smiling lips
    With open arms

    There you lie before me
    With angry eyes
    With spiteful mouth

    And yet with you I’d go
    Away from my fire
    Away from my snow

    After all, who would know?