I ASKED the angels in my prayer, With bitter tears and pains, To show mine eyes the kingdom where The Lord of glory reigns. I said, My way with doubt is dim, My heart is sick with fear; Oh come, and help me build to Him A tabernacle here! The storms of sorrow wildly beat, The clouds with death are chill; I long to hear his voice so sweet, Who whispered, "Peace; be still!" The angels said, God giveth you His love, -- what more is ours? And even as the gentle dew Descends upon the flowers, His grace descends; and, as of old, He walks with man apart, Keeping the promise as foretold, With all the pure in heart. Thou needst not ask the angels where His habitations be; Keep thou thy spirit clean and fair, And He shall dwell with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO W.P.: 3 by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE by EMILY DICKINSON ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC by JOHN DRYDEN SONNET: 109 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE MELANCHOLY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS |