Classic Poem

Hither , Maid of placid eye,
With looks on earth, but thoughts on high —
Where'er, as o'er the vale of woe,
Thy tranquil steps we trace —
Thy bloodless hand, thy cloudless brow,
Thy harmless purpose, peace;
Where'er affliction leads the storm,
Thy soothing power employ,
And check the thought that dares deform
The brighter hour of Joy!
Where'er, as on Probation's way,
(Life's various, undulating, day)
Fair, of healing aspect, draw thee nigh,
And gently smooth my passage to the sky.