Page:Poems Angier.djvu/114

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A VISION.
'Twas a beautiful vision that noiselessly stole,
Like a sweet dream of heaven, entrancing the soul;
Though weary the sleeper, her cares fled away
Like mists of the morning at break of the day.

By her side stood a Presence—nor motion nor breath
Broke the silence that reigned like the stillness of death;
The white Dove of Peace spread its pinions so near,
That hushed was each murmur and calmed every fear.

Awe-stricken she gazed on the shadowy form,
For the vision yet lingered, fair, radiant, warm;
All, save that the head which was reverently bowed
Seemed bathed, like yon moon, in a light, fleecy cloud.