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My Angel-Dress HEAVENLY Father, I would wear Angel-garments, white and fair: Angel-vesture undefiled Wilt Thou give unto Thy child? Not a robe of many hues, Such as earthly fathers choose; Discord weaves the gaudy vest: Not in such let me be drest. Take the raiment soiled away That I wear with shame to-day: Give my angel-robe to me, White with heavenly purity! Take away my cloak of pride, And the worthless rags 't would hide: Clothe me in my angel-dress, Beautiful with holiness! Perfume every fold with love, Hinting heaven where'er I move; As an Indian vessel's sails Whisper of her costly bales. Let me wear my white robes here, Even on earth, my Father dear, Holding fast Thy hand, and so Through the world unspotted go. Let me now my white robes wear: Then I need no more prepare, All apparelled for my home Whensoe'er Thou callest, "Come!" Thus apparelled, I shall be As a signal set for Thee, That the wretched and the weak May the same fair garments seek. "Buy of Me!" I hear Thee say; I have naught wherewith to pay, But I give myself to Thee; Clothed, adopted I shall be. Lucy Larcom's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1229 |
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