WITH downy pinion they enfold The heart surcharged with woe, And fan with balmy wing the eye, Whence floods of sorrow flow; They bear in golden censers up That sacred gift, a tear, By which is register'd the griefs Hearts may have suffer'd here. No inward pang, no yearning love Is lost to human hearts; No anguish that the spirit feels When bright-wing'd hope departs: Though in the mystery of life Discordant powers prevail, That life itself be weariness, And sympathy may fail; Yet all becomes a discipline To lure us to the sky; And angels bear the good it brings With fostering care on high. Though others, weary at the watch, May sink to toil-spent sleep, And we are left in solitude And agony to weep -- Yet THEY with ministering zeal The cup of healing bring, And bear our love and gratitude Away on heavenly wing. And thus the inner life is wrought, The blending earth and heaven -- The love more earnest in its glow, Where much has been forgiven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEACE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO -, WITH A ROSE by SIDNEY LANIER THE MARRIAGE (1) by TIMOTHY LIU |