An angel by me stood, and smiled;
He wrapt me round; aloft he bore;
He wafted me o'er wood and wild;
He laid me at my mother's door.
How oft in sleep with heart that yearned
Have I not seen that face! Ah! me,
How slowly, seeing, I discerned
That likeness strange it bears to thee!
V.
If some great angel thus bespake,