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.
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.
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 the heavy lids to sleep?
Yea, I have heard him weep and weep.
Have I not felt him leaning o'er,
Kissing the 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.
Rosy azaleas in his hand,
His sapphire gown, his aureoled curl,
His opal wings and mother-o'-pearl.
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.
I fear not all the ill I see,
Though in the fruit a canker grows,
And serpents harbour 'neath the rose.
101
