In Paradise

“o pitying angel, pause, and say   To me, new come to Paradise, How I may drive one pain away   By penitence or sacrifice. From deeps below of nether Hell   I hear a lost soul’s bitter cry: Alas! It was through me she fell,—   What price forgetfulness may buy?” The passing angel paused in flight,   Poised like fair stars which first arise, And looked on that pale suppliant white,   With piercing pity in his eyes. “Ah, woe!” he said. “Thy joy and peace   Cannot be bought with prayer or price. For thee that wail will never cease,   Though thou hast won to Paradise!”