Oh, bide wi’ her, an’ you will fin’
That duty done brings sweet reward;
The Maister, Christ, pleased na’ Himsel’,
Although He was creation’s Lord!
CHILD ANGELS
Oh, there are happy angels
That go on missions sweet;
They have no wings to bear them,
Just little human feet.
When I had grown aweary,
And all my faith was dim,
’Twas one of them that led me,
And brought me back to Him.
When ’tween you and a loved one
There lay a widening breach,
And you were coldly drifting
Beyond each other’s reach,
A child’s hand ’twas that bridged it—
A child’s soft, rosy palm
Held both your souls united,
And life grew sweet and calm.
When sorrows closely gathered,
And heart and head were bowed,
The blue eyes of a baby
Made rifts in pain’s dark cloud.
Oh, happy, earth-born angels,
Who go on missions sweet,
If ye had wings to bear you,
Instead of little feet,
I fear me ye would use them,
Altho’ ye love us much,
To soar to Him who tells us
His “Kingdom is of such.”
MY LOVE OF LONG AGO
There are faces just as perfect;
There are eyes as true and sweet;
There are hearts as strong and tender
As the heart that’s ceased to beat;
There are voices just as thrilling;
There are souls as white, I know,
As hers was when she went from me—
My love of long ago.