HER HEART WAS LIKE A GENEROUS FIRE

By Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

HER heart was like a generous fire,

Round which a hundred souls could sit

And warm them in the unstinted blaze.

Those who held nearest place to it

Had cheer and comfort all their days;

Those who, perforce, were further still

Yet felt her radiance melt their chill,

Their darkness lightened by her rays.

Her heart was like a generous fire!

The trivial dross of thought and mind

Shrivelled when brought too near its heat,

The hidden gold was caught, refined;

A subtle effluence keen and sweet

From every creature drew its best;

Gave inspiration, strength, and rest,

Quickened the moral pulse’ s beat.

Her heart was like a generous fire!

Circled by smaller fires in ring,

Each lit by her infectious spark

To send forth warmth and comforting

Into hard paths and by-ways dark.

The little fires, they still burn on;

But the great kindling flame is gone,

Caught up past our imagining.

Her heart was like a generous fire!

How changed the summer scenes, how chill,

How coldly do the mornings break,

Since that great heart is quenched and still,

Which kept so many hearts awake!

O Lord the Light! shine Thou instead,

Quicken and trim the fires she fed,

And make them burn for her dear sake.