To touch the face of an angel

Ever wanting am I,

To touch the face of an angel.

True, divine and perfect beauty,

Enamored am I,

Enchanted by thine's beautious face.

Soft as ermine, sweet as myrrh, your face.

Doth I toucheth you, and foul your fair beauty with my earthly hand?

My desire has no end,

And my wisdom can not prevent.

I stretch out my ever tentative hand,

You are ever out of my reach.

Must I remain within my earthly bounds,

And never touch the face of an angel?

Standing on the precipice of this cliff,

I lift my arms and feel this wind.

Oh, should it be that I am lifted on the wings of angels?

To fly with the Cherubim, Seraphim and all the other choirs.

I'm surrounded by the clouds,

My feet no longer on the ground.

So sweet, just to be,

In the company of thee.

Now, I feel the earth beneath.

Was it all just a pleasant dream?

I feel this wind upon my face,

An angel's kiss, my grace.

A smile alights my face,

For I have been upon the wings of angels.

So now, I lift my hands up high, so high, I may just touch the sky.

Doth I knoweth you exist?

Hath I not desired to touch your face?

Hath I not been upon your wings?

Your kiss upon my cheek?

Your existence so sweet, ethereal and free?

So, I lift my hands up high, so high, in the sky, that I just may touch an angel.