Have lit for us these sunless winter days,
With radiant kindliness and gracious smiles
Cheering our weariness, though in thy heart
Sorrow for Sigebert still weeping lies:
How shall we render thanks for courtesy
When all our thanks would not outweigh one smile
That kindles in thine eyes, and curves thy lips
Upward, and lingers there deliciously,
Though the deep eyes have once again turned grave
With sorrow half remembered? O fair Queen,