by James Nack
'T Is true that love's romantic dreams
Are bright as heaven's opening gleams,
And give to life a charm divine,
That wisdom sorrows to resign;
Yet much they err who seek in this
The only or the highest bliss,
Or deem that woman's noblest part
Is but to give and win a heart.
This angel (such in all but wings)
Was born for higher, holier things,
And best her ministry fulfills
In smoothing life's pervading ills.
'T is hers to soothe the troubled mind,
'T is hers the broken heart to bind,
To turn the erring soul to prayer,
And snatch the sinner from despair;
To hover round affliction's bed,
With angel look and fairy tread;
Receive affection's dying breath,
And seal the cherished eyes in death!
And all the while forbear to show
The sorrows God alone can know!
The spirit thus sublimes the clay,
All selfish taint refines away,
Till too divine to be concealed,
The perfect angel stands revealed!
Source:The Romance Of The Ring, And Other Poems.
Delisser & Procter, 508 Broadway, New York