PRINCESS FIRE
The gray fog folds the houses round,
The rain falls from the sky,
And in the house, all snug and warm,
Are Princess Fire and I;
She wears a gown of changing red
And while she sings to me
She dances gayly to and fro
With laughing witchery.
Oh, weary, weary, weary wheels,
Slow turning in the street;
Oh, lamps that burn so bravely there,
Through all the mist and sleet;
Oh, great bleak wind from northern lands
That beats against the pane—
To your cold realms I banish you;—
To darkness and the rain.
Upon the hearthstone here within
The ruddy comfort gleams,
And Princess Fire her province rules,
The while her subject dreams;
And here are warmth, and cheer, and light,
And here no need to sigh;—
A lover and his lady bright—
Good Princess Fire and I.
