NOT the soul that's whitest Wakens love the sweetest: When the heart is lightest Oft the charm is fleetest. While the snow-frail maiden, Waits the time of learning, To the passion laden Turn with eager yearning. While the heart is burning Heaven with earth is banded: To the stars returning Go not empty-handed. Ah, the snow-frail maiden! Somehow truth has missed her, Left the heart unladen For its burdened sister. |