“COULD an angel come from heaven,”
Said a blooming little boy,
“Could he leave its blessed precincts,
With its pleasure and its joy,
And come and visit us below,
Awhile on earth to dwell,
Oh, what a tale of ecstasy,
His angel lips could tell!
“Methinks, mamma, I could not tire
Of listening to his voice;
For oh, to hear an angel
Would make my heart rejoice!
He could tell us of the mansions,
So very far away;
He could tell us what bright angels do,
And what bright angels say.
“And he might bring me tidings
Of my father dear, who died;
For you said he went to heaven,
When so bitterly I cried;
And he might know my father,
For they have the same bright home
And amid the same bright glories,
All happily they roam.”
“Hush, hush, ray little darling!
You know not what you say;
But if you love the Saviour,
And His gracious call obey,
You’ll be taken up to heaven,
When the blessed Lord shall come,
And shall see your dearest father
In the angels’ happy home.
“Then higher than an angel
Would my little darling be;
And more beauty in the heavens
Than the angels he would see;
And his song would be far sweeter,
As a sinner saved by grace,
Than the angels’, ever sinless,
Before Jehovah’s face.
“For not for happy angels,
Did the Lord of glory die;
It was for wretched sinners
He laid his glory by;
Believe on him, my precious,
And to the Saviour flee,
Then higher than an angel,
Shall my little darling be.”
A.M.