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MANCHESTER:

ALCOCK & HUMBY, PRINTERS,

CROSS STREET.

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,
Where sits enthroned the God of Light.
And before this being now

In love and reverence we bow;
For in its mind

An image of our God we find.

Here we wait-and would behold
This beauteous bud of heaven unfold.

There sweetly on its mother's breast
The infant cherub sinks to rest,
While above

She watches with o'erflowing love.
Mortal mother, guard him well,
Boundless powers within him dwell;
The blessed task to you is given,
To rear him for the courts of heaven,
Where he may stand

Clothed with light at God's right hand.

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While demons, clad like saints of light,
Will lure him towards the realms of night:
Until with rust

His crown may crumble into dust;
And all those noble powers within
Be blighted by the breath of sin.

Mortal mother! guard him well,
Eternal hopes within him dwell;
In thy love,

Point above,

And before his Father there
Teach him to pour forth his prayer:
And bid him know

He thus may conquer every foe:
For all the powers of earth combined
Cannot harm a prayerful mind.
Let thy heart

This truth impart ;

Then fearless, in the eye of God,

Bid him walk on his heavenward road.

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