Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/103

 Angels tend the children Waking or asleep, They rebuke the evil, Who have made them weep. Heaven's crystal glory gloweth Rainbowed as they fly To where earth's night, illumined In their sweet charity, Dawneth silently!

In the lordly castle, In the dungeon deep. In the lonely hovel, Love-vigil they keep. Fair be the children, cherished, Sweethearted, rosed with health, Or poor and starved, and wanting The soul's holier wealth, Inheritors of sorrow, By leaguering ills deformed, Plague-smitten soul and body, Poor hearts love never warmed,— With all the angels tarry; And though the fire be low, They will fan the ember To a living glow; Inhabiting our sorrow, Our chilled heart of wrong,