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THE DESCENT OF THE ANGEL.
"This is the house. Come, take the keys,
Romance and Travel here must end."
Out of the clouds, not quite at ease,
I saw the pretty bride descend;—
With satin sandals, fit alone
To glide in air, she touched the stone.

A thing to fade through wedding lace,
From silk and scents, with priest and ring,
Floated across that earthly place
Where life must be an earthly thing.
An earthly voice was in her ears,
Her eyes awoke to earthly tears.