Classic Poem

Upborne by angels in a world of sorrow,
In others' anguish losing half her own;
So taught of grief that darkened souls might borrow
Their light of sunshine from her lips alone!

Herself a seraph, whose unfolding pinions
And upward glance betray her better birth,
Yet lingering still amid the dull world's minions
To win some wanderer from the ills of earth.

As fair of form as lily-pure of spirit,
Heaven watched, and guided in her upward way;
Ah! such as she are they who shall inherit
The strength and triumph of a better day.