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VOL. XX.—NO. 1022.] JULY 29, 1899. [PRICE ONE PENNY.]
THE ANGEL OF PROMISE!
BY EDWARD OXENFORD.
Wildly she wailed by the tiny cot, And knew not the words she said, As she Death reviled, for her darling child Therein lay cold and dead! All in the world she loved was lost, From her in its sweetness swept; She would no more trust in a Heaven unjust— Then the mourning mother slept!
Hovered the Angel of Promise nigh, Empowered by the King above, And he o’er her bent with the tidings sent Of everlasting love!
“Trust thou in Him; He knoweth best; Nought ordereth He in vain; Past the Golden Gates now thy babe awaits, And ye there shall meet again!”
Tranquil and solaced the mother woke, Soul-filled with the Angel-dream; And she blessed each word, in her slumber heard, Sent down in love supreme. “Trust? yes, I trust! He knoweth best, And guardeth my babe who waits In the Realms of Bliss for a mother’s kiss, Till I pass the Golden Gates!”
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