  WITH an angel-flower laden, Every day a little maiden, Sails away from off my bosom On a radiant sea of bliss. I can see her drifting, drifting— Hear the snowy wings uplifting, As he woos her into dreamland, With a kiss. Blissful hour, my pretty sleeper, Whispering with thy angel keeper, List’ning to the words he brings thee From a fairer world than this; Ah! thy heart he is beguiling, I can tell it by thy smiling, As he woos thee into dreamland With a kiss. Could there come to weary mortals Such a glimpse through golden portals, Would we not drift on forever, Toward that far-off land of peace; Would we not leave joys and sorrows, Glad to-days, and sad to-morrows, For the sound of white wings lifting, For an angel’s tender kiss. |
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