noon
The fire was the fiddler ; and wax was not softer or more responsive than the pliant breasts on which its music fell . `` I watched a log in the fireplace burning . '' They whispered it one to another and under the spell of its transfiguring lay , bent forward , they witnessed the last act in a pine-tree pantomime . A dazzling transformation scene it was : in the glow they could see , summed up , each transition of light and heat that went before : dawn 's tender flame , the fierce blaze of high noon , ruby rays of evening streaming now across the Bowl -- hill-girt lake without -- gathered , all gathered , in a golden age behind them to feed the sap of a noble tree , here poured forth , amid a radiant ballet of flame and spark , to furnish life , light -- inspiration -- to a Council Fire . `` I watched a log in the fireplace burning , Oh ! if I , too , could only be Sure to give back the love and laughter , That Life so freely gave to me ! '' Tanpa , the Guardian , softly breathed it .