The Angel

Mathilde Wesendonck
1828 – 1902


Early in my days of childhood,
Angels, I oft heard it said,
Left the blissful joys of Heaven
For the light of Earth instead.

When a heart fills with dread sorrow,
Shuns the world and disappears,
When its wish to bleed in silence
Dissolves into a flood of tears,

When its prayer at its most fervent
Begs for nothing but release,
Then the angel will come down to
Raise it up to Heaven’s peace.

Once an angel flew down to me;
He, on wings that shimmer, soft,
Leads me far away from suffering,
Gently bears my soul aloft.

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