SONG OF THE ANGELS. American. We have come from the heaven of heavens, to see A deep and wonderful mystery: A human soul! That will live while endless ages roll. A ray divine, Whose beam will shine For ever in that region bright, In love and reverence we bow; An image of our God we find. Here we wait-and would behold There sweetly on its mother's breast She watches with o'erflowing love. Clothed with light at God's right hand. While demons, clad like saints of light, His crown may crumble into dust; Mortal mother! guard him well, Point above, And before his Father there He thus may conquer every foe: This truth impart ; Then fearless, in the eye of God, Bid him walk on his heavenward road. CONTENTS. 65 80 103 111 117 124 XXVII. Prayer-No. I. Sense of Helplessness 170 179 189 197 205 213 222 232 |