Under the heaven of her brows'
Unclouded noon of peace, there lies
A leafy heaven of hazel boughs
In the seclusion of her eyes;

Her troubling eyes that cannot rest;
And there's a little flame that dances,
A firefly in a grassy nest,
In the green circle of her glances;

A frolic faun that must be hid,
Shyly, in some fantastic shade,
Where pity droops a tender lid
On laughter of itself afraid.