Classic Poem

Lady, thine upward flight
The opening heavens receive with joyful song;
Blest who thy mantle bright
May seize among the throng,
And to the sacred mount float peacefully along.

Bright angels are around thee;
They that have served thee from thy birth are there;
Their hands with stars have crowned thee;
Thou, peerless Queen of Air,
As sandals to thy feet, the silver moon dost wear.