She sang of Love—the love whose fires

Burn with a pure and gentle flame,

No passion lights of wild desires

Red with the lurid glow of shame.

She sang of angels, and their wings

Seemed rustling through each soft refrain;

Gladness and sorrow, kindred things

She wove in many a tender strain.

She sang of Heaven and of God,

Of Bethlehem’s star and Calvary’s way,