THE AMBULANCE by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER

I NEVER see in our bustling town,
Where the midsummer sun pours fiercely down,
The swift onrush of the ambulance
But I think of the blessed countenance
Of One who walked by lane and field,
And with voice and look the suffering healed.

Still, where the city's woes are thick,
The dear Christ-spirit heals the sick.
And yet he lives in the hearts of men,
And sends his angels with speed again
Wherever the weary plod and fall,
His care and tenderness over all.

And the angels carry lint and lance,
And drive in the city's ambulance;
Are bluff of speech and deft of hand,
And quick with accents of command;
And the wind of their coming clears the way
For a breath of heaven in the darkest day.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...