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.”