They call thee false as thou art fair,
They call thee fair and free, —
A creature pliant as the air
And changeful as the sea:
But I, who gaze with other eyes, —
Who stand and watch afar, —
Behold thee pure as yonder skies
And steadfast as a star!

Thine is a rarer nature, born
To rule the common crowd,
And thou dost lightly laugh to scorn
The hearts before thee bowed.
Thou dreamest of a different love
Than comes to such as these;
That soars as high as heaven above
Their shallow sympathies.

A star that shines with flickering spark
Thou dost not wane away,
But shed'st adown the purple dark
The fulness of thy ray:
A rose, whose odors freely part
At every zephyr's will,
Thou keep'st within thy folded heart
Its virgin sweetness still!