In humbleness strong, and in purity beautiful,
In spirit heroic, in manners a child,
Ever thy love like an angel reposes,—
With hovering wings o’er the sufferer here,
Till the arrows of death are half-hidden in roses,
And hope-speaking prophecy smiles on the bier.
2. When life, like a vapor, is slowly retiring,
As clouds in the dawning to heaven uprolled,
Thy prayer, like a herald, precedes him expiring,
And the Cross on thy bosom his last looks behold;