HEART OF THE FIRE.
From the heart of the fire does the vision rise,
It is good to sit in the afterglow,
While some one’s hand in your big one lies
And nobody there to know,
Ah, golden gleaming its many towers,
The palace ye build, ye twain.
Where two shall dwell thro’ the love-lit hours
In a golden castle in Spain.
Who is it laughs in the dusk behind?
Who lurks in the shadows there?
Will the years that are coming to you be kind
And the end of the dream be fair?
Ah! boy and girl, with the love-lit eyes!
Will the faith and the love remain
When only a crumbling ruin lies—
Your fallen castle in Spain?
Sydney Bulletin.