She rose and stood within the light of day,
White-faced and wondering, with lifted head.
As April-butterflies, new-winged for flight,
That poise awhile in quivering amaze,
Ere they may dare the unknown, glittering ways
Of perilous airs--upon the brink of morn
She paused one moment in the showering light,
In radiant ecstasy of youth forlorn.
Then swift remembrance flushed her virgin snow,
And wakened in her eyes the living fire;