THIS TOUCH OF AN ANGEL’S HAND.
Happiness is the realization of longings,—
Of hope and fond desire,—
That enter the heart like angel-throngings
Bearing celestial fire.
Like the peace that follows a benediction
Is the painless rest it gives,
Lething forever the heart’s affliction
In the endless joy it leaves.
’Tis the acme of life and the end of living,
This touch of an angel’s hand,
And it falls on the heart like the holy shriving
Of the Priest of the Better Land.
LIFE’S PHILOSOPHY.
AN ALLEGORY.
How builds this budding flower, my child?
“It lies all wrapped in icy snows
Until the Suns of Spring have smiled
And kissed it, blushing, to a rose.”
How doth the tree, fair youth, the tree?
“Year by year it adds a round
And reaches up by slow degree,
Keeping firm foot on the ground.”
The vine, sweet maid, how doth the vine?
“By the tree’s support it lifts its head
And round the tree its arms doth twine;
Thus the two in love are wed.”
The two, aged sire and dame, how they?
“The tree protects the tender vine,
The vine in turn binds firm the tree:
The two are one in shade and shine.”
What of the plant, O man, the plant?
“Adream in life’s fair sleep it lies
Until the Autumn Suns aslant
Shoot gleaming thwart the glowing skies!”