“My heart had contentment,” she said,
“Till I saw you pass by,
Bewitching the bird from the bough
And the stars from the sky.
My soul had a sanctuary once
But your shadow fell there,
And the flame of the candles burnt dim
In the chill of the air.
My thoughts had their freedom,” she sighed,
“Till you took them in thrall,
Now they follow like birds where you go,
Rising up at your call.”

He heeded not, turned not his head
For his heart was his own.
And he passed with a song on his lips
Where she waited alone.