Speak, Scotta! sweet spirit and friend.”
“O! tell me just why from the portals
Of Heaven you’ve wandered away,
And sit here alone by the river
Wreathing these lilies to-day.”
Her lips parted, as if for an answer—
Then a cluster of cherubim, came—
They hovered about this sweet seraph,
And whispered in concert a name.
It resounded along Heaven’s archway,