Eve's purple dust sinks to its golden urn
Where in the west, the sun's red banners burn.

The wigwam's smoke that warms the pillared air
Mounts in a shaft to greet the sunset glare;

Soon, on the night is lifted high, afar,
Serene, intense, one iridescent star;

And in the dark is heard a maiden's prayer; —
The heart of Love is listening everywhere.