From The Topeka State Journal, October 16, 1914. By Fannie Stearns Davis.
I lit the fire for you alone,
And then you never came.
The Others sat here, while the blown
Red rapture of the flame
Swept up the chimney to the night,
They sat and looked at me.
They found me fair by that firelight
You never came to see.
The Others love me more than you;
Yet I was angry. I
Knelt down beside the hearth and blew
The brands to make them die.
Love is a foolish, jealous thing.
I would not have them share
The flame that I set glorying
For you, who do not care!