What was thine errand here? <br />Thy beauty was more exquisite than aught <br />That from this marrèd earth <br />Takes its imperfect birth. <br />It was a radiant heavenly beauty, caught <br />From some far higher sphere, <br />And though an angel now, thou still must bear <br />The lovely semblance that thou here didst wear. <br />What was thine errand here? <br />Thy gentle thoughts, and holy, humble mind, <br />With earthly creatures coarse <br />Held not discourse, <br />But with fine spirits, of some purer kind, <br />Dwelt in communion dear; <br />And sure they speak to thee that language now, <br />Which thou wert wont to speak to us, below. <br />What was thine errand here? <br />To adorn anguish, and ennoble death, <br />And make infirmity <br />A patient victory. <br />And crown life's baseness with a glorious wreath, <br />That fades not on thy bier, <br />But fits, immortal soul! thy triumph still, <br />In that bright world where thou are gone to dwell.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mrs-dulaney/
