American Female Poets [an electronic edition]

THE BOY AND HIS ANGEL.

" OH, mother, I've been with an angel to-day!I was out, alone, in the forest at play, Chasing after the butterflies, watching the bees, And hearing the woodpecker tapping the trees; So I played, and I played, till, so weary I grew, I sat down to rest in the shade of a yew, While the birds sang so sweetly high up on its top, I held my breath, mother, for fear they would stop! Thus a long while I sat, looking up to the sky, And watching the clouds that went hurrying by, When I heard a voice calling just over my head, That sounded as if 'come, oh brother!' it said; And there, right over the top of the tree, Oh mother, an angel was beck'ning to me!

And, ' brother!' once more, 'come, oh brother! he cried, And flew on light pinions close down by my side! And mother, oh, never was being so bright, As the one which then beam'd on my wondering sight! His face was as fair as the delicate shell, His hair down his shoulders in fair ringlets fell, His eyes resting on me, so melting with love, Were as soft and as mild as the eyes of a dove! And somehow, dear mother, I felt not afraid, As his hand on my brow he caressingly laid, And whispered so softly and gently to me, 'Come, brother, the angels are waiting for thee!'

"And then on my forehead he tenderly press'd Such kisses —oh, mother, they thrill'd through my breast, As swiftly as lightning leaps down from on high, When the chariot of God rolls along the black sky! While his breath, floating round me, was soft as the breeze That play'd in my tresses, and rustled the trees; At last on my head a deep blessing he pour'd, Then plumed his bright pinions and upward he soar'd! And up, up he went, through the blue sky, so far, He seem'd to float there like a glittering star, Yet still my eyes follow'd his radiant flight, Till, lost in the azure, he passed from my sight! Then, oh, how I fear'd, as I caught the last gleam Of his vanishing form, it was only a dream! When soft voices whisper'd once more from the tree, 'Come, brother, the angels are waiting for thee!'"

Oh, pale grew that mother, and heavy her heart, For she knew her fair boy from this world must depart! That his bright locks must fade in the dust of the tomb Ere the autumn winds withered the summer's rich bloom! Oh, how his young footsteps she watch'd, day by day, As his delicate form wasted slowly away, Till the soft light of heaven seemed shed o'er his face, And he crept up to die in her loving embrace! " Oh, clasp me, dear mother, close, close to your breast, On that gentle pillow again let me rest! Let me once more gaze up to that dear, loving eye, And then, oh, methinks, I can willingly die! Now kiss me, dear mother! oh, quickly! for see, The bright, blessed angels are waiting for me!"

Oh, wild was the anguish that swept through her breast, As the long, frantic kiss on his pale lips she press'd! And felt the vain search of his soft, pleading eye, As it strove to meet her's ere the fair boy could die.

"I see you not, mother, for darkness and night Are hiding your dear loving face from my sight — But I hear your low sobbings —dear mother, good bye! The angels are ready to bear me on high! I will wait for you there —but, oh, tarry not long, Lest grief at your absence should sadden my song!" He ceased, and his hands meekly clasp'd on his breast, While his sweet face sank down on its pillow of rest, Then, closing his eyes, now all rayless and dim, Went up with the angels that waited for him!