With what gravity will she collide,
This stuff of which she's made,
These little lonely pearls inside?
Too timid, far too child-eyed,
She dwells in endless shade;
With what gravity will she collide?
In constant caution of false pride
Through apparitions always wade
These little lonely pearls inside.
And who will bloom this lily bride?
By whom will she be swayed?
With what gravity will she collide?
Escape is ever lost, denied.
No gentle champion crusades
These little lonely pearls inside.
In darker worlds she'll fleetly hide,
For sorrows fast pervade.
With what gravity will she collide—
These little lonely pearls inside?