In robes of summer hue;
I dreamed that blessed ones might deign,
To leave their radiant seats again,
Nor weep to yield their home in heaven,
For the bright ones that Earth had given.
On morn, so holy, pure, and bright—
I looked on one most fair,
Whose braided hair was dark as night,
And wrought with maiden care—
Forth issue from her father's door,