To Laura

In Mem'ry's fairest court a shrine is set,
Round which the fragrance of a sweet life clings, —
The essence of such rare and holy things
As Love alone can sanctify. The fret
And turmoil of the world avail not yet
To quench the sweetness; for an angel's wings
Are ever hov'ring near, and longing brings
A vision loved that makes the eyelids wet.
Dear sister, in those realms of radiant light
Where thou hast grown to know a richer lore
Than that of earth, sometimes rememb'rest thou
The hours of our companionship so bright
With joyance? Ay, but we shall meet once more,
And at God's throne in praise together bow.
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