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Thomas Moore - The Loves of the Angels
Work rating: Medium

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Who shine where`er they tread and yet
Are humble in their earthly lot,
As is the way-side violet,
That shines unseen, and were it not
For its sweet breath would be forgot
Whose hearts in every thought are one,
Whose voices utter the same wills—
Answering, as Echo doth some tone
Of fairy music `mong the hills,
So like itself we seek in vain
Which is the echo, which the strain—
Whose piety is love — whose love,
Though close as `twere their souls` embrace,
Is not of earth, but from above—
Like two fair mirrors, face to face,
Whose light, from one to the other thrown,
Is heaven`s reflection, not their own—
Should we e`er meet with aught so pure,
So perfect here, we may be sure
There is but one such pair below;
And, as we bless them on their way
Through the world`s wilderness, may say,
`There Zeraph and his Nama go.`
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