Only to be snared, and to sink, in the turbid mudpool of reality."
Suddenly, a light,—and a rushing presence,—and a consciousness of Something near me,—
I trembled, and listened, and prayed: then I knew the Angel of Life:
Vague, and dimly visible, mine eye could not behold Him,
As, calmly unimpassioned, He looked upon an erring creature;
Unseen, my spirit apprehended Him; though He spake not, yet I heard:
For a sympathetic communing with Him flashed upon my mind electric.
Pensioner of God, be grateful; the gift of Life is good:
The life of heart, and life of soul, mingled with life for the body.
Gladness and beauty are its just inheritance,—the beauty thou hast counted for romance: