Classic Poem

Two angels who remain are these;
That man, to whom they still appear,
With joy, but not with wonder sees,
And greets, with each returning year.

One comes with winter bleak and wild,
In saintly robe of shining white,
And brings again the Holy Child
To light the dark, terrestial night.

And one, in vernal sunbeams clad,
When life in waking nature yearns,
And puts forth flowers, and voices glad
Exclaim, The Lord is risen — returns.

This, to the human heart appeals,
The simple thought, the childlike heart;
The other to the soul reveals
Its own celestial counterpart —

The higher, the immortal part,
That lived in God, ere Christ was born;
Lily, that bloomed in Mary's heart,
Rose of the Resurrection morn!

Known are they? Have they place and name?
Who brought the Virgin joy and doom?
What angel, clad in lightning's flame,
Kept watch by Christ's deserted tomb?

Is Gabriel in that shining stole,
To bid the Virgin Mother hail?
In Easter's Triumph of the Soul
Stands Michael in his dazzling mail?

Bright visitants! returned ye not,
Deep were the pagan winter's gloom,
Sweet greetings, loving gifts forgot,
And in no heart for Mary room .