University of Virginia Library


12

OF AN ANGEL.

Never alone upon my way,
Mine Angel's with me every day,
And all night long he sits and sings,
Shaking the darkness off his wings.
The wavering moonlight steals and slips
From amber head to pinion tips,
Bathing him in a silver sea
That makes his eyes a mystery.
When I am bruised and sad and sore,
Have I not felt him leaning o'er,
Kissing my heavy lids to sleep?
Yea, I have heard him weep and weep.
In the noon-sun I see him stand,
Rosy azaleas in his hand;
His sapphire gown, his aureoled curl,
His opal wings and mother-o'-pearl.

13

And while this Angel walks with me
I fear not all the ill I see,
Though in the fruit a canker grows,
And serpents harbour 'neath the rose.
In noon-day gold, in moonlight snow,
I know the precious things I know,
Hidden not from my love-keen sight
By dazzle of day and mirk of night.
Mine Angel's praying hands and meek,
The pure young outline of his cheek,
His grave young mouth, his brow like snow,
His everlasting eyes I know.
Love lights his taper at those eyes,
O, stainless Bird of Paradise!
Love in your heart to Love divine
Has built a temple and a shrine.
O lips that bless, and eyes that yearn,
And sometimes sad, but never stern,
Dearest, my friend, my gift of God,
Companion on my dangerous road.
Stay with me, though the day be long,
And Heaven is lonelier for your song;
Though I be sad, and all my plea
Is only my soul's poverty.