MY ANGEL.

Oft from the summer hights of love, Along the ways of Time, The pilgrims of this lower sphere Catch gleams of light sublime, That stream adown the azure way, From heaven’s unshadowed clime. There, on the balmy, golden air, Celestial music swells, Like harps Eolian, gently blown, Or chime of silver bells— And there my star, my angel love, My spotless lily dwells. She came to me, when from my soul A demon had been cast; When I had rent the servile chain, Which long had held me fast, And stood erect, in conscious power, A strong, free man at last. The burnt-out fire-crypts of my life Had lost their crimson gleam, And emptied of their baleful glare, I walked as in a dream, With one great purpose in my heart, To be and not to seem. Life’s holiest lesson then was mine, For when at peace within, And I had cleansed my erring heart From its foul taint of sin, That gentle maiden, pure and sweet, Like sunshine entered in. She was my idol—O my God! Have angel hearts above, Through their long line of endless life, Such depth of power to love, As that with which I folded close, My tender, trusting dove? It was not long, for when the flowers Upon the green hill-side Closed their bright eyes to wake no more, My own sweet darling died. The angels oped the shining door, And called her from my side. O, when they laid her form to rest Beneath the churchyard sod, I longed to follow in the way Her angel feet had trod; For, crushed and bruised, my spirit yearned To hide itself in God. Love led me to the inner depth, Which sorrow had unsealed, And there I saw the wealth of power Within my soul concealed— In that dark, desolating hour, Life’s meaning stood revealed. I knew myself, and knowing this, The power to me was given To bridge across the dark abyss Between my soul and heaven, And gather up the golden link Which seemed so harshly riven. The angel hand of her I loved Was gently laid in mine; She led me, by a path of peace, To Truth’s eternal shrine, Where my glad soul will never cease To worship Love Divine. Thus have I learned how vain are creeds Man’s reason to control; His lesser life supplies its needs From Life’s majestic Whole. Love is the guiding star to Love, And Soul must speak to Soul.