Questioning Life for Joy!
TERESINA’S FACE
He saw it last of all before they herded in the steerage,
Dark against the sunset where he lingered by the hold,
The tear-stained dusk-rose face of her, the little Teresina,
Sailing out to lands of gold:
Ah, the days were long, long days, still toiling in the vineyard,
Working for the coins that set him free to go to her,
Where gay it glowed, the flower face of little Teresina,
Where the joy and riches were: