Far away from the secular noise,
In rain tinkle the clogs;
Coming a little sprite,
Loiters in full silence.
Face-peaceful and innocent as moon,
Holy elegance there is——sentiment there too;
Under the lilac umbrella shines,
Her delicate and lonely eyes.
Strolling in rain——antique it is;
When day-light burns to ashes,
The sprite still roves,
Chewing with leisure sleeplessness.
Dark-——Remit as yet no grace.
Comfortable are her steps.
Arises from amazing magic,
Her enhanced attractiveness.