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An Angel Visits the Earth
An angel sent to visit us on Earth,
The realm of bliss to this of grinding woe;
What must she think to dwell in love's sad dearth?
But angels need not think, for all they know.
Perhaps she knows the meaning of it all,
And softly beats her wings to sooth our cries;
Perhaps she knows that mortal crises fall,
And all shall seem but little when one dies.
But we, who cannot know, and sadly think,
May feel a great divinity beyond;
And wonder why it is that we must sink,
And why it is that dirt must be our bond.
There is, perhaps, a better world above,
But even here, we can a little love.
Copyright ©
Jerrold Prothero
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