At midnight an angel was crossing the sky, <br />And quietly he sang; <br />The moon and the stars and the concourse of clouds <br />Paid heed to his heavenly song. <br /> <br />He sang of the bliss of the innocent souls <br />In heavenly gardens above; <br />Of almighty God he sang out, and his praise <br />Was pure and sincere. <br /> <br />He bore in his arms a young soul <br />To our valley of sorrow and tears; <br />The young soul remembered the heavenly song <br />So vivid and yet without words. <br /> <br />And long did it struggle on earth, <br />With wondrous desire imbued; <br />But none of the tedious songs of our earth <br />Could rival celestial song.<br /><br />Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-angel-2/
