Angels are men of a superior kind; Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.
The bell strikes One. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours.
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