"Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers."

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The breath of peace was fanning her glorious brow, her head was bowed a very little forward, and a tress, escaping from its bonds, fell by the side of her pure white temple, and close to her just opened lips; it hung there motionless! no breath disturbed its repose! She slept as an angel might sleep, having accomplished the mission of her God.

— Nathaniel Hawthorne