OUR ANGEL.
Seventeen months our wee white maid
Grew in the sunshine fair and sweet,
Till the dearest music of life was played
By the touch of her hands and the fall of her feet;
Then as the dawn of the April day
Wooed new life to the winter sod,
Our little white maiden turned away,
And went to dwell in the smile of God.
Grew in the sunshine fair and sweet,
Till the dearest music of life was played
By the touch of her hands and the fall of her feet;
Then as the dawn of the April day
Wooed new life to the winter sod,
Our little white maiden turned away,
And went to dwell in the smile of God.
Ah well! we know the fairest years
Of the brightest future ever we planned
Are dark with sorrow and pain and tears
Compared with the joy of that blissful land.
But O for the woe of the empty hands,
And the longing heart, and the tear-dimmed eyes,
Trying to reach where our darling stands,
And follow her footsteps in Paradise.
Of the brightest future ever we planned
Are dark with sorrow and pain and tears
Compared with the joy of that blissful land.
But O for the woe of the empty hands,
And the longing heart, and the tear-dimmed eyes,
Trying to reach where our darling stands,
And follow her footsteps in Paradise.
Little white angel up in heaven
Safe in His arms whose smile is Love,
Safe in His arms whose smile is Love,
