BESIDE a grave two Angels sit,
Set there to guard and hallow it;
With grave sweet eyes and folded wings
They watch it all the day and night,
And dress the place and keep it bright,
And drive away all hurtful things.
And one is called in heavenly speech,
Used by the Blessed each to each,
“The Angel of the Steadfast Heart”:
Those hearts which still through storm and stress,
Strong in a perfect faithfulness,
Keep the firm way and better part.
Unto the other has been given
The loveliest name is known in Heaven,
“The Guardian of the Selfless Soul,”—
Those dear souls who through joy and pain
Lose their own lives to find again,
Bearing the weight of other’s dole.
A crown of roses snowy white
Surrounds one Angel’s brow of light,—
Sweet, sweet the odor that it breathes;
A starry band of asphodels,
Which shake out dim, mysterious smells,
The other’s statelier forehead wreathes.
“She is of mine,” one Angel saith;
“Her heart was faithful unto death,”—
His voice has a triumphant tone.
“Mine, too,” the other soft replies;
“By her whole life’s self-sacrifice
I mark and claim her as mine own.”
And then the voices blend and vie
In clear, celestial harmony:
“Both in the task may rightly share,
For she whose gentle rest we tend
Was brave and constant to the end,
With never a selfish thought or care.
“The quiet earth wherein she lies
Is holy-ground in heavenly eyes;
It well befits for such as she
That we should quit all other task;
Nor better could an angel ask
Than be the guard of such as she.”
Beside a grave two Angels sit,
Set there to tend and hallow it;
Unseen by men they sit alway;
With folded wings and eyes of light
They make it dewy-sweet all day,
And balm it subtly every night.