TO FRAU HALE, FOR TEACHING ME ABOUT THE THINGS THAT REALLY MATTER
O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wond’ring eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him.
Baby, I can see your halo
You know you’re my saving grace