On The Conversion Of A Sister

'Tis the voice of my sister at home, Resign'd to the treasures above, Inviting the strangers to come, And feast at the banquet of love. 'Tis a spirit cut loose from its chain, 'Tis the voice of a culprit forgiven, Restored from a prison of pain, With th' sound of a concert from heaven. 'Tis a beam from the regions of light, A touch of beatific fire; A spirit exulting for flight, With a strong and impatient desire. 'Tis a drop from the ocean of love, A foretaste of pleasures to come, Distill'd from the fountain above, The joy which awaits her at home.