' My future will not copy fair my past'-- <br />I wrote that once; and thinking at my side <br />My ministering life-angel justified <br />The word by his appealing look upcast <br />To the white throne of God, I turned at last, <br />And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied <br />To angels in thy soul ! Then I, long tried <br />By natural ills, received the comfort fast, <br />While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff <br />Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled. <br />I seek no copy now of life's first half: <br />Leave here the pages with long musing curled, <br />And write me new my future's epigraph, <br />New angel mine, unhoped for in the world !<br /><br />Elizabeth Barrett Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xlii-3/
