HER heart was like a generous fire,
Round which a hundred souls could sit
And warm them in the unstinted blaze.
Those who held nearest place to it
Had cheer and comfort all their days;
Those who, perforce, were further still
Yet felt her radiance melt their chill,
Their darkness lightened by her rays.
Her heart was like a generous fire!
The trivial dross of thought and mind
Shrivelled when brought too near its heat,
The hidden gold was caught, refined;
A subtle effluence keen and sweet
From every creature drew its best;
Gave inspiration, strength, and rest,
Quickened the moral pulse’s beat.
Her heart was like a generous fire!
Circled by smaller fires in ring,
Each lit by her infectious spark
To send forth warmth and comforting
Into hard paths and by-ways dark.
The little fires, they still burn on;
But the great kindling flame is gone,
Caught up past our imagining.
Her heart was like a generous fire!
How changed the summer scenes, how chill,
How coldly do the mornings break,
Since that great heart is quenched and still,
Which kept so many hearts awake!
O Lord the Light! shine Thou instead,
Quicken and trim the fires she fed,
And make them burn for her dear sake.