No star in yonder sky that shines
Can light like woman's eye impart,
The earth holds not in all its mines
A gem so rich as woman's heart.
Her voice is like the music sweet
Poured out from airy harp alone,
Like that when storms more loudly beat,
It yields a clearer--richer tone.
And woman's love's a holy light
That brighter burns for aye,
Years cannot dim its radiance bright,
Nor even falsehood quench its ray.
But like the star of Bethlehem
Of old, to Israel's shepherds given,
It marshals with its steady flame
The erring soul of man to heaven.