Poems (Edwards)/Guardian Angels
For works with similar titles, see Guardian Angels.
GUARDIAN ANGELS.[Suggested by hearing a Sermon from the Rev. G***** W. L******** of the Virginia Conference.]
They guard us well,These holy messengers of God our King,In the wide world wherever we may dwell,Around our paths, their sheltering arms they fling.
Where dangers rise,And hope has almost vanished, then we hearTheir spirit-whispers from the far off skies,Or from the viewless air; "soul do not fear."
When pain and griefComes o'er us like a tempest, and our heartsSeek round and round in vain for some relief,Their still small whisper sweetest peace imparts.
In the still nightWhen darkness gathers o'er us like a cloud,They watch our slumbers with their eyes of light,Whispering sweet dreams as round our beds they crowd.
And some there are,—The loved and lost, and gentle ones of ours,Who may be gathering with that bright throng there,Filling our hearts with thoughts like starry showers.
O! tell me notOur loved ones are not with us day by day,Methinks they guard us, we are not forgotBy all our kindred who have passed away.
They who have weptWhen grief had cast its mantle on our brow,They who have round us nightly vigils kept,Think you, O! think you, they forget us now?
Think you that loveSo pure, so holy while it dwelt below,Will not be brightened in the world above,Where earth's dark dreams can sadden us no more?
I love to dreamThat angels are around me, to recallThe names of the departed; it doth seemThat I am watched and guarded by them all.
Ye spirit band!Still guide me through my pilgrimage below,And lead my footsteps to the better land,Where all the spirit's weariness is o'er.
No night is there,No lonely watching by the bed of death,No broken sigh, no look of keen despair,No painful listening for the parting breath.
No fear, no dread,No last farewell, no clasping of the handWith vain regret, no tear, no parting tread,Can mar the pleasures of that glorious land.
Oh! guard us home,Ye holy messengers of God; our steps attend,Through life's dark vale of bitterness and gloom,Up to that land where joy shall never end.
And when we meetAround our Father's throne, all face to face,With what deep rapture will our spirits greetThe throng who led us to that happy place!
A few more years,And we will join them in the spirit land,Where God himself shall wipe away our tears,And bid us welcome to that Angel Band.