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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: An angel watched with radiant face
Last Line: Mother—thy son was dead!
Alternate Author Name(s): Reboul De Nimes, Jean


An angel watched with radiant face
A cradled infant's dream,
Seeming his own bright form to trace
As in some crystal stream.

"Sweet image of myself," he cried,
"Fair cherub come with me;
Far we will journey side by side,
Earth is no home for thee.

Here, bliss is mixed with base alloy
Pain pleasure underlies;
Grief echoes in each tone of joy,
And rapture has its sighs.

Fear at each banquet sits a guest,
Earth's calmest Sabbath fails
To pledge the future, or arrest
To-morrow's raging gales.

Say then, shall gloomy woes and fears
To vex thy soul arise?
Oh! must the bitterness of tears
Bedim thine azure eyes?

No! Through the fields of space with me
Thy soul may soar content:
God claims no more those days from thee,
Thou should'st on earth have spent.

But let no sable robes by pale
And weeping friends be worn;
Death's hour as gladly they should hail,
As that when thou wast born.

Pain for thy loss should leave no scar,
Thy doom should cloud no brow:
The last day is the fairest far
To beings pure as thou."

The seraph spake; and then, with white
Resplendent wings outspread,
To realms eternal took his flight:
Mother—thy son was dead!





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