Footsteps of Angels

5Ere the evening lamps are lighted,

6And, like phantoms grim and tall,

7Shadows from the fitful firelight

8Dance upon the parlor wall;

9Then the forms of the departed

10Enter at the open door;

11The beloved, the true-hearted,

12Come to visit me once more;

13He, the young and strong, who cherished

14Noble longings for the strife,

15By the roadside fell and perished,

16Weary with the march of life!

17They, the holy ones and weakly,

18Who the cross of suffering bore,

19Folded their pale hands so meekly,

20Spake with us on earth no more!

21And with them the Being Beauteous,

22Who unto my youth was given,

23More than all things else to love me,

24And is now a saint in heaven.

25With a slow and noiseless footstep

26Comes that messenger divine,

27Takes the vacant chair beside me,

28Lays her gentle hand in mine.

29And she sits and gazes at me

30With those deep and tender eyes,

31Like the stars, so still and saint-like,

32Looking downward from the skies.

33Uttered not, yet comprehended,

34Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,

35Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,

36Breathing from her lips of air.

37Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,

38All my fears are laid aside,

39If I but remember only

40Such as these have lived and died!