GUARDIAN ANGELS OF CHILDREN.
87
Until it yield, and mellow
Bloom to a sweet song.
They, knowing our mortal fever
Soon will pass away,
Through long nights of sorrow
Calm await the Day.
Asleep they lead the lambkins
To meadows of sweet dream,
In gentle arms they bear them
By many a cooling stream;
Where the sunbeams cherish
White and yellow flowers,
They may sail on silver
Among fairy bowers,
Losing all the terror
Of our waking world,
Sails of their frail shallop
In flowery havens furled.
A poor boy rides the pony
So wistfully admired,
While a poor maiden nurses
The doll richly attired;
They feel no more so tired!
Pains and griefs no longer
Vex the innocent breast,
Now dear angels lull them
Into such deep rest!
