How cheering the thought that the spirits in bliss
Should bow their bright wings to a world such as this,
And leave the sweet songs of the mansions above,
To breathe o’er our bosom some message of love!

They come–on the wings of the morning they come,
To convoy the stranger in peace to his home;
The pilgrim to waft from this stormy abode,
And lay him to rest in the arms of his God.

They come when we wander, they come when we pray,
In mercy to guard us wherever we stray:
A glorious cloud their bright witness is given;
Encircling us here these angels of heaven.