That back again in pomp you best were borne:
No dream warned, and no need of convoy was;
An angel caught you up and clapped you down,—
No mighty task; you stand one metre high,
And people carry you about at times.
Why, then, did you despise the simple course?
Because you are the Queen of Angels: when
You front us in a picture, there flock they,
Angels around you, here and everywhere.
"Therefore, to prove indubitable faith,