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CRUCE AND CORONA.
And with the picture these few greeting words:"O sister of my soul! my thoughts to-nightAre flown to thee, where fain I too would be.Though parted far, one gladd'ning thought is mine;The same bright holy stars bend over each,And one bright home awaits us in the heav'ns."
A glorious night in Italy. The moonWith softened splendor lights the sculptured formsThere grouped in majesty.Corona standsBeside a vine-wreathed pillar near her home;Her hands are clasped in reverence; her eyesWith admiration lifted to the heav'ns;And, gazing in their clear and wondrous depths,Upon imagination's wing her soulDoth pass beyond the boundaries of earth.The limited, the finite, all are lost,And with the infinite she dwells alone.
The moon with regal grace descending lowBehind the distant hills, its parting beamsUpon the vine-wreathed pillar linger yet.Corona from the heav'ns withdraws her gaze;Within her eyes there shines a new-born lightOf revelation; for her soul hath knownBaptism of the infinite from God.
