Whatever sentence will bear to be read twice, we may be sure was thought twice. - Henry David Thoreau
One midnight an angel flew over the sky,
With a song on his lips he did fly,
And a bevy of clouds, the bright moon and the stars
To his song listened, rapt, from afar.
Of the sinless he sang that in paradise dwell,
Of the bliss that is theirs he did tell,
Of the glory of God sang he too, and sincere,
True and simple his praises they were.
In his arms a babe's soul held he, bearing it to
This dark world where, alas, joys are few,
And the sound of his song, its celestial strains
With that young soul did wordless remain.
Long it languished on earth, full of dreams and desires,
With the sounds born of Heaven afire,
And the dull songs of earth, though the air they did fill,
These rare, heavenly sounds could not still.