And her smile was enhancing the light
That fell on this friend of my bosom,
This angel robed softly in white.
I longed to reach upward and touch her,
To ask why the flowers she twined;
Wondered often for whom was the garland,
And the crown with the lily buds lined.
So I cried and my voice soared onward
Farther than sight could extend—
“For whom are you weaving this chaplet?