Who is this, with brow serene,
And such a peaceful smile?
Surely now the vision bright
Can sorrow’s self beguile!
As the vision pass’d me by,
I heard an angel speak,
And the simple words were these—
O, “Blessed are the meek.”
Then I follow’d silently,
Where’er the vision led,
Till a storm seem’d gathering
Around the fair one’s head;
Still I saw the peaceful smile,
And heard the angel speak,
And the only words he said
Were—“Blessed are the meek.”
Onward, onward still I went,
Where’er the vision led;
Till I saw the fair one laid
Upon a dying bed.
Then the smiling sufferer,
With voice all faint and weak,
Spake herself—and sweetly said—
O, “Blessed are the meek.”
Now seraphic grew her smile,
The angel too was there,
Waiting, to the upper skies
Th’ unprison’d soul to bear.
Then the angel said to me,
“If happiness you seek,
Ever, ever bear in mind,
How ‘blessed are the meek.’”