Angel of Patience
John Greenleaf Whittier
To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God’s meekest angel gently comes.
No power has he to banish pain,
Or give us back our lost again;
And yet in tender love, our dear
And Heavenly Parent sends him here.
There’s quiet in that angel’s glance,
There’s rest in his still countenance.
He mocks no grief with idle cheer,
Nor wounds with words the mourner’s ear;
Though ills and woes he may not cure
He kindly trains us to endure.
Angel of Patience, sent to calm
Our feverish brows with cooling palm;
To lay the storms of home and fear,
And reconcile life’s smile and tear;
The throbs of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our God’s will.
O thou who mournest on thy way,
With longings for the close of day;
He walks with thee, that Angel kind,
And gently whispers, “Be not resigned;
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell
That God doth order all things well.”