Classic Poem

Be calm my Breast; Eyes, cease your flowing Tears:
A dazling Scene of Glory now appears:
See! how her guardian Angel nimbly Flies,
With his lov'd Charge he cuts the yielding Skies,
And crouding Cherubs meet them as they rise.
Pleas'd with a Piety so like their own,
In joyful Hymns, they make her Welcome known.
O Happy! happy Saint, they cry,
In this thy second Birth;
How glorious, how triumphantly
Art thou return'd from Earth?
Our Sov'reigns Will thou hast perform'd,
A faithful Course hast run,
The World, the Flesh, and Devil scorn'd,
A Crown of Glory won.
O bless our Maker! in exstatick Lays:
O join with us! in everlasting Praise.
Here stop my Muse! here stop thy daring Flight!
An Intervening Cloud forbids thy Sight;
Nor can thy mortal Eyes, bear such excessive Light.