THE ANGEL'S STORY.
11
"And he smiled, though they were fading; One by one their leaves were shed;'Such bright things could never perish, They would bloom again,' he said.When the next day's sun had risen Child and flowers both were dead.
"Know, dear little one! our Father Will no gentle deed disdain:Love on the cold earth beginning Lives divine in Heaven again,While the angel hearts that beat there Still all tender thoughts retain."
So the angel ceased, and gently O'er his little burthen leant;While the child gazed from the shining, Loving eyes that o'er him bent,To the blooming roses by him, Wondering what that mystery meant.
Thus the radiant angel answered, And with tender meaning smiled:"Ere your childlike, loving spirit, Sin and the hard world defiled,God has given me leave to seek you,— I was once that little child!"
****
In the church-yard of that city Rose a tomb of marble rare,Decked, as soon as Spring awakened, With her buds and blossoms fair,—And a humble grave beside it,— No one knew who rested there.
