FAITHLESS as Saint Thomas, never Could I in the heaven believe Which both Jew and Priest endeavour To compel men to receive. That the angels, though, are real I have never held in doubt; Spotless, and of grace ideal, On this earth they move about. Still I doubt if such a being Wing'd is, it must be confess'd; I have recently been seeing Wingless angels, I protest. With their dear and loving glances With their loving hands so white Men they guard, and all advances Of misfortune put to flight. Every one can comfort borrow From their favour and regard; Most of all that child of sorrow Whom the people call a bard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW; A MIDSUMMER LEGEND by MARY HOWITT SONNET: ON FAME (1) by JOHN KEATS SONNET: 20 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE A SUMMER NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO THE MEMORY OF H-- M-- by BERNARD BARTON THE PASSING YEAR by MATHILDE BLIND THE DEEP by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: MASQUERS FIRST DANCE by THOMAS CAMPION |