And shineth through life's prison walls.
Our converse is of earthly things:
Our little world of joys is pure,
And silvery laughter peals and rings,
Like flute-sounds in an overture,
Swelling with sudden rise aloft,
Or toning to a cadence soft.
The firelight dances on the walls,
In wavering streams of ruby light;
A human ray that gladly falls,