The Angel-Mother's Heaven

O F all the Pagan Creeds, that man
Built on the soul's Elysian plan,
The best, for Pagan Heaven contriv'd,
Is, that in joy the man surviv'd ,
And that his pleasures upon earth
Found in the shades their second birth.
Perhaps, in Christian views refin'd,
That wreath is for the Saints design'd;
Those hallow'd Pilgrims upon earth,
Whose path was bright in Christian worth,
May, as their Heaven's appropriate joy,
The habits of their life employ.
Then should I hope, again to see
A Mother's glance descend on me —
Again (from a celestial sphere)
Should her angelic spirit hear,
And, guarded by her fostering care,
Leave no access, to my despair.
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