31. Angelic Guidance
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ARE these the tracks of some unearthly Friend, |
His foot prints, and his vesture-skirts of
light, |
Who, as I talk with men, conforms aright |
Their sympathetic words, or deeds that blend |
With my hid thought;—or stoops him to attend |
My doubtful-pleading grief;—or blunts the
might |
Of ill I see not;—or in dreams of night |
Figures the scope, in which what is will end? |
Were I Christ's own, then fitly might I call |
That vision real; for to the thoughtful mind |
That walks with Him, He half unveils His face; |
But, when on earth-stain'd souls such tokens fall, |
These dare not claim as theirs what there they find, |
Yet, not all hopeless, eye His boundless grace. |
Whitchurch.
December 8, 1832. |