Wanted—An Angel For Heaven

WANTED--AN ANGEL FOR HEAVEN.--And so death closed those little eyes--shrouded their bright glances. O, that the sun would not come streaming in on his shrouded form, as if there were no grief in the world!

How sweetly he sleeps, that little coveted angel! How lightly curl the glossy rings on his white forehead! You could weep your very soul away, to think those cherub lips will never, never unclose. Vainly you clasp and unclasp that passive darling hand that wandered so often over your cheek. Vainly your anguished glance strives to read the dim story of love in those faded orbs. The voice, sweet as winds blowing through wreathed shells, slumbers forever. And still the busy world knocks at your door, and will let you have no peace. It shouts in your ears ; its chariots rumble by; it smiles broadly in your care-worn face ; it mocks you as you sew the shroud ; it meets you at the coffin, at the grave; and its heavy footsteps tramp up and down in the empty rooms from whence you have borne your dead. But it comes never in the hush of night to wipe away your tears !

Wanted--an angel for heaven! Can you look up? Can you bear the splendor of that sight ? Ten thousand celestial beings, and your own radient child in their midst.

"In his eyes a glory light. On his brow a glory crown."

Wanted--angels for heaven! Cling not too closely to your beautiful treasures, children of earth!

"You have two children," said I.

"I have four," was the reply; "two on earth, two in heaven."

There spoke the mother! Still her's! ' only "gone before!" Still remembered, loved, and cherished by the hearth and at the board ; their places not yet filled, even though their successors draw life from the same faithful breast where their dying heads were pillowed.

"Two in heaven!"

Safely housed from storm and tempest: no sickness there, nor droping head, nor fading eye, nur weary feet! By the green pastures, tended by the Good Shepherd, linger the little lambs of the heavenly fold.

"Two in heaven!"

Earth less attractive! Eternity nearer! invisible cords drawing the maternal soul upwards. "Still small" voices ever whispering come! to the world, weary spirit.

"Two in heaven!"

Mother of angels walk softly! Holy eyes watch thy footsteps, cherub forms bend to I listen! Keep thy spirit free from earth's taint; so shalt thou "go to them," though "they may not return to thee."