To weary hearts, to mourning homes, God's meekest Angel gently comes: No power has he to banish pain, Or give us back our lost again; And yet in tenderest love our dear And heavenly Father sends him here. There's quiet in that Angel's glance, There's rest in his still countenance! He mocks no grief with idle cheer, Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear; But ills and woes he may not cure He kindly trains us to endure. Angel of Patience! sent to calm Over feverish brows with cooling palm; To lay the storms of hope and fear, And reconcile life's smile and tear; The throbs of wounded pride to still, And make our own our Father's will! O thou who mournest on thy way, With longings for the close of day; He walks with thee, that Angel kind, And gently whispers, "Be resigned: Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. BURKE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE [EXCELLENT] BALLADE OF CHARITIE by THOMAS CHATTERTON THE FLIGHT OF THE WAR-EAGLE by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER HIS WORST ENEMY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A SUPERSTITION REVISITED by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN CONSOLATION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |