 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
[My eyes were not blessed with a vision]
My eyes were not blessed with a vision,My ears caught no music divine;
But I knew by the rose-scattered pathway
The point where an angel crossed mine.
An angel? Nay, only a woman
Dispensing the bounties of God—
Could an angel do more? Then an angel
One moment my pathway has trod.
O blessèd, or angel or woman—
Whatever of grief it encloses—
That heart whose way into the heaven
Is traced by the scent of the roses.
To Mary Peck, July 14, 1858.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |