THE ANGEL MESSENGER.
123
THE ANGEL MESSENGER.
"And now men see not the bright light which is in the clouds."
Job xxxvii. 21.
Sorrow! thou art God's angel. On thy track
A thousand holy messengers have come,
Calling Thy wandering child in mercy back,
Pointing afar, and softly whispering, "Home."
Upon thy path I trace the footsteps bright
Of One who for my sake with thee hath trod;
His tears still gem the thorns, until the light
Blends into radiance, leading on to God.
The fathomless dark depths hath Jesus passed,
And left a lamp to radiate the tomb;
And now amid the gloom its beams are cast,
The lonely valley's darkness to illume.
Thou art God's angel, Sorrow. Though thy face,
Veiled by thy shadowy wings, is hid awhile,
Sweet is the message on thy scroll we trace,
A holy rapture hath thy parting smile.
Cowards are we! Fain would we pass thee by
When thou wouldst wake the soul by sin long stained;
But at thy flight we own thy ministry,
And find we have an angel entertained.
A thousand holy messengers have come,
Calling Thy wandering child in mercy back,
Pointing afar, and softly whispering, "Home."
Upon thy path I trace the footsteps bright
Of One who for my sake with thee hath trod;
His tears still gem the thorns, until the light
Blends into radiance, leading on to God.
The fathomless dark depths hath Jesus passed,
And left a lamp to radiate the tomb;
And now amid the gloom its beams are cast,
The lonely valley's darkness to illume.
Thou art God's angel, Sorrow. Though thy face,
Veiled by thy shadowy wings, is hid awhile,
Sweet is the message on thy scroll we trace,
A holy rapture hath thy parting smile.
Cowards are we! Fain would we pass thee by
When thou wouldst wake the soul by sin long stained;
But at thy flight we own thy ministry,
And find we have an angel entertained.
