Classic Poem

Come gentle Meekness! with thy timid eye,
Thy voice of harmony, thy looks of love!
Thy wings of plumage from the spotless dove,
And mantle blue from the etherial sky!
Thy modest step, soft as the tender foot
Of soothing mercy, when she weeping stands
O'er the pale suff'rer's couch, and wrings her hands,
And forms some pious pray'r his griefs to suit,
Or guards his short repose in anguish mute! —

Come, heav'nly Meekness ! with thy smile serene,
Dispel the tumults of the raging breast;
Each savage pow'r shall fly the blessed scene,
Where sweetly calm thy beauteous head shall rest:
Ev'n Christian Hope shall guard the spot divine,
And earth's fair paradise shall still be thine!