 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
SPIRITUAL BEAUTY.
There is a form that visits me in dreams—A form of delicate and maiden grace;
And o'er my slumbers bends a gentle face,
Where the soul's speaking brightness ever beams:
'Tis not a face of beauty, yet sweet gleams
Of pure and holy thought are in her eyes,
And her lip wears a smile that ever seems
To light the circling air like sunset skies.
Alas! 'tis but in dreams she comes; no more
That gentle friend shall bless my waking sight,
Until life's changeful April day is o'er,
And mine eyes close in death's untroubled night:
Then may I hope my lost one's face to see,
And share in happier worlds her immortality.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |