The Dove, on silver pinions, winged her peaceful way.

Fairest and best adorned is she Whose clothing is humility.

Songs of praise the angels sang, Heav'n with alleluias rang, when creation was begun, when God spoke and it was done.

Dark-green and gemm'd with flowers of snow, With close uncrowded branches spread Not proudly high, nor meanly low, A graceful myrtle rear'd its head.

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, a day's march nearer home.

Eternity: a moment standing still for ever.

Beyond this vale of tears there is a life above. unmeasured by the flight of years; and all that life is love.