Classic Poem

“I KNOW thee, Angel, though thou dost not wear,
As thou wast wont, the glory and the gold
That smote upon the poet's gaze of old.
Thou Messenger! What tidings dost thou bear?

“I know thee winged and vested thus in gray,
Not clouds of heaven and night of earth disguise
The light supernal of thine awful eyes.
O Angel, linger, speak to me who pray!”

Almost I seemed to hold and to let slip
The angel's robe; I know the gray wings cast
Shadow about me; yet he smiled and passed,
That word of God a-quiver on his lip.

When morning came, one died whom I held dear;
The angel's smile lay on his quiet face;
For him who pleaded not had been the grace,
The word ineffable I wait to hear.