Эдвард Бульвер-Литтон (Edward Bulwer-Lytton)

The Guardian Angel

    From Heaven what fancy stole
  The dream of some good spirit, aye at hand,
  The seraph whispering to the exile soul
                Tales of its native land?

    Who to the cradle gave
  The unseen watcher by the mother's side,
  Born with the birth, companion to the grave,
                The holy angel-guide?

    Is it a fable?--"No,"
  I hear LOVE answer from the sunlit air,
  "Still where _my_ presence gilds the darkness--know
                Life's angel-guide is there?"

    Is it a fable?--Hark,
  FAITH hymns from deeps beyond the palest star,
  "_I_ am the pilot to thy wandering bark,
                Thy guide to shores afar."

    Is it a fable?--sweet
  From wave, from air, from every forest tree,
  The murmur spoke, "Each thing thine eyes can greet
                An angel-guide can be.

    "From myriads take thy choice,
  In all that lives a guide to God is given;
  Ever thou hear'st some angel guardian's voice
                When Nature speaks of Heaven!"

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