"guarded" poems
For years my heart was guarded, protected from the world.
But somehow you have disarmed me, opened and unfurled.
You’ve taken me, broken and damaged, mishandled and hurled .
Yet you see me as delicate and dainty, so precious and pearled.
Everything’s not perfect but it sure is beautiful here.
Your smile so bright with a voice I just love to hear.
Your touch, so gentle I just want to have you near.
I love your energy and your presence, you make everyone else disappear.
He has captured my trust and that’s something not easily given.
He has made all my worries forgotten and all of my heartache is forgiven.
His mission was to win my heart and made his goal clear, he was driven.
After plenty of chances to earn my trust, I’d finally decided to give in.
I feel so loved, so valued, so cared for so protected.
He has won me over and I doubt I’ll ever regret it.
To a man who truly cares for me and satisfies my every need.
For you have saved me from my darkness, and my heart you have freed.
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 6:27 PM UTC
#*I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay
I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."
I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires
I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken
You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it
You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears
There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry
It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing
You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease
So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure
Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan
You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing
You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all
Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under
For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten*#
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay
I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."
I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires
I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken
You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it
You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears
There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry
It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing
You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease
So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure
Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan
You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing
You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all
Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under
For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean
crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown
overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs
nobody feels responsible
not those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees
not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed
not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close
nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics
it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough
those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
quite suddenly
lose their homes
forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
These hands that have held you as a wild child in a dream are the same hands that throb to choke you and muffle your screams.
These hands which guided and guarded you down those stretches of hospital halls are now the hands that push you down to fall.
These hands once caressed the jagged, pink, scar where your heart used to lay become the hands that wish to tear it away.
These hand that made sure you fell asleep through all that pain now are the hands that would cut themselves to beat out your brain.
These hands that used to pray for you like a ***** ready to be ****** are clinched in two fist now ready to make the first throw.
These hands that ached for you, fed you, and tried so ******* hard are just the hands of memories now deep tissue scars.
... These hands.. Would have killed anyone, in dirt and cold blood.. Are now the only hands holding back the rage of my flood.
.. These hands, they still work for you. Even if you're no longer here with me..... These hands, they're still here, waiting... One day.. You'll see.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
To see more and more
Every time, I used to sit at the train door!!
I didn't capture this imagery before
So, I kept my eyes wide open to store!!
Well, I must agree
You'll get to see
Wide angled views for free
All that I can recapture is a tree
And, It never stops surprising me
Meanwhile, the people who come to ***
Will mistake me for a ********
Thinking that I'd jump off to make my life Departed!!
They'll try hard to get me safe Guarded
Finally, they'll close the door and have me Discarded!!
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
It is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
No ebb and flow are there among the main,
No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,
And loveless sea: no trace of days before,
No guarded home, no time-worn restingplace
No future hope no fear forevermore.
15.4k
A pink kimono
yukata
Adorned with velvet flowers
Standing there in the Springtime mist of Japan,
Guarded by Sakura trees.
Skies are blue,
Singing a beautiful song,
Pink lips like adorable flowers on a spring day,
A most beautiful, kind and loving princess to ever
walk Japan.
Your beautiful face,
Your kindest soul,
Your adorable lips,
You smiled at me.
You have the prettiest voice,
that calms my soul.
You're the most beautiful and loving princess,
ever to walk Japan...
© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Numb
to not feel
to not feel, pain
or anything else.
being numb does not mean unable to notice
it does not mean, unable to pretend.
I know numbness.
long ago in a hospital,
it was pumped into my veins
and I learned.
Numbness,
will ease pain.
but now I am stuck
trapped in this place
where I pump myself full of metaphysical numbness
At the point I reside,
the only thing I feel
is physical.
I know the warmth of your hand when you hold mine tightly
I know the softness of her skin
and I know if I am injured.
One day,
one desperate day when I was alone against everything...
I released some of my rusted life from my arm.
and as the warmth dripped away...
I felt it.
a small spark inside
not happiness...
but a tear in my left eye.
My fears, not gone
but released,
the things I guarded so close,
brought to the light.
I remember a day
a long time ago...
in a hospital room I wondered.
which, is better?
To die filled with pain and fast,
or to be pumped full of artificial numbness, and have it last?
Numbness.
no word makes me sicker
not in disgust, but in a pit.
I am terrified of numbness,
and so I ask of anyone who will listen to my dying heart
please
DON'T let me die numb.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
He dreamed he was loved.
A love guarded fiercely, with passion.
A love that was not unconditional.
Not the blank slate love of a child
or an animal so programmed by instinct.
This love was willful and earned.
Having glimpsed an injured brilliance
beneath the flab and sweat and stench she weaned it to health.
Making it stronger, and brighter,
and more prominent with each passing day; until it erupted.
And he was transformed.
to embody that brilliance.
And she protected that embodiment.
Letting nothing call it to question.
She cared for him as he never could for himself.
She soothed and softened
and loved the deep furrow from his brow.
And her passion overwhelmed him.
And he wanted for nothing.
And when he opened his eyes
To **** and filth
with only the kiss of concrete
and the banter of horns
and obscenities
and footsteps.
******* FOOTSTEPS.
Heels pittering purposefully to mask exhausted uncertainty
Brogues, and wingtips clicking; with a cocky juvenile illusion of importance.
Boots plodding heavily under the weight of duty,
to build, and fix, and secure for the others.
And through a fog laid thick and throbbing
by poisons chased dutifully the night before;
he felt her fierce love for a fleeting moment
Guarding, and loving his shining brilliance
until it erupted from him;
With bile and blood, **** and regret
coldly rejected by his concrete companion.
And she was gone once again.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
*I was a princess.
Long before the burden of knowledge --
before the reality of life plunged itself deep into me.
Tea parties and *****
Gowns and pretty jewels,
Braids and long lashes,
We were the rulers of the kingdom.
Walls constructed of plastic kept us safe,
security from the barbarians that lurked outside.
A magic mirror that warped and bent from age,
from magic, to show your future,
which was often a short fat lady.
Thrones that swung back and forth,
so that her majesty does not bore herself.
We guarded our kingdom from the evil outside...
but we forgot to check within our walls.
At some age, we stopped guarding the plastic kingdom.
We stopped looking for the monsters outside --
realizing they were lurking inside of us...
whispering dark things.
Now Aurora is sleeping off a hangover --
that beautiful face streaked with wet mascara
maybe when she wakes up, everything will be better?
Ella is hiding from loan sharks,
wishing for a way out of the slums,
hoping a rich man will sweep her off her feet.
Ariel is running away from home
changing her identity for her new boyfriend,
desperate that no one will come between them.
Snow is sleeping with several men --
mommy issues ran her out of town,
now she's the walking herself to the abortion clinic.
Princesses we were.
Princesses we are.
Princesses we will be.*
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Ancient gardens where dragons roam:
Guardians of Grove protecting Flower Rose.
In wanders uncanny courageous bone,
Ghost hunting for salvation.
Tempted for the rose, face to face with dragon's nose;
Swallowed by the tales and the mysteries.
A seed untold, yet to follow unfold..
Blooms the next flower in the garden of my dragon guarded home.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.
A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.
Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"
Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."
"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."
"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."
"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."
"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."
"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."
Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.
Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."
Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.
Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
It was early nineteen thirty four
The world was set to change
Europe was on fire
It was time to rearrange
Poland was the first stop
The German Army on the move
So we left for America
I hope you did approve
You came with me to Jersey
On a trip across the sea
You've guarded all my secrets
Known by only you and me
You used to spin quite gaily
Now you just stand there en pointe
You're my clipped wing little angel
That's the name I shall anoint
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
I sit here and remember
All the treasures you once hid
You've still some trinkets in there
Some from when I was a kid
Your tu tu is all tattered
The silk lining frayed and torn
But, you've held together nicely
But, I guess we're both quite worn
Your lipstick isn't red now
I hear your music in my head
It hasn't played for 50 years
I just remember it instead
The music gave up playing
You were slightly over wound
But, you still twirled and kept dancing
Even though there was no sound
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
I've told you more than anyone
Than I have ever known
We've been together now forever
You're the most precious thing I own
You've been with me for two husbands
And you've seen my kids pass on
There's just me and you, my dancing girl
All the rest of them are gone
Your paint is chipped and cracked
Your pony tail is broken too
If I still can recollect now
In the fall of fifty two
Your spring is rusted tightly
You need a hand to stand up right
But, then again, I do as well
And most days it's quite the fight
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
Charms and little trinkets
Plastic jewellery, real as well
Secrets of a child
Secrets you would never tell
I am now moving to December
Of my calendar of years
Soon my life will end and
There's no one left to shed me tears
I sit here and I wonder
What shall become of you
My Thumbelina Ballerina
In your dancing dress of blue
You started as a music box
You are not used as that no more
But, Thumbelina Ballerina
Will you dance for me once more?
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks
you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks
[ or at least you said you did ]
she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes
you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips
she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day
she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny
she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice
[ or at least you said you did ]
she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words
you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice
she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy
you convinced her that you loved her
[ or at least you said you did ]
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
Our last connection with the mythic.
My mother remembers the day as a girl
she jumped across a little spruce
that now overtops the sandstone house
where still she lives; her face delights
at the thought of her years translated
into wood so tall, into so mighty
a peer of the birds and the wind.
Too, the old farmer still stout of step
treads through the orchard he has outlasted
but for some hollow-trunked much-lopped
apples and Bartlett pears. The dogwood
planted to mark my birth flowers each April,
a soundless explosion. We tell its story
time after time: the drizzling day,
the fragile sapling that had to be staked.
At the back of our acre here, my wife and I,
freshly moved in, freshly together,
transplanted two hemlocks that guarded our door
gloomily, green gnomes a meter high.
One died, gray as sagebrush next spring.
The other lives on and some day will dominate
this view no longer mine, its great
lazy feathery hemlock limbs down-drooping,
its tent-shaped caverns resinous and deep.
Then may I return, an old man, a trespasser,
and remember and marvel to see
our small deed, that hurried day,
so amplified, like a story through layers of air
told over and over, spreading.
9.5k
who knew you were filled
with gold!
when I stuffed the dynamite down
your throat and ran you
through the casino I wasn’t
expecting a jackpot
maybe a princess piñata or a
party popper
but a corner leather and a
fresh haircut?
no, we’re not
in the 50’s anymore
but your vault was guarded
like mob headquarters when you head
started sputtering
quarters
you the
light-skinned pin action
movie star
looking highly alien
you
my diamond studded
chain
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
When did you become a stormy sea of obsession?
Confining in all of your ways
Renouncing all moves in any direction
When one does not yield to the calls, you play
Attempts to govern unclipped wings can be exhausting
The very thought is so gravely insane
Yet you still despondently try to cage in free spirits
With those borders you set and maintain
You reveal uncertainty in your own validation
In the faith you hold in your own
When you desperately try to close off the sky
From free spirits thirsting to roam
Did you know that your borders are guarded by insecurity?
They are useless and protected in vain
Take a look inside the cages you obsessively provide
Not a single free spirit remains
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 6:31 PM UTC
¤¤¤
I've had dreams by day
That brought the nightmares back.
In the daylights exposure it was dark
When the negative light was bright.
In the sea of people
I was the floating remains
Of a Great White's meal.
On the lonely roads of thought
My mind was in gridlock.
Comforting memories were suspended
Over a psychic black hole
By jagged and rusted
Medieval-type surgical tools.
My remaining senses
Were nailed to a cross-section
Of psychically atrophied grey matter
Along neural pathways
Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors.
Left with nothing
But the stinging desire to be freed
From a curse that had to be cured
And the hell of searching for a cure
When I was convinced there wasn’t one.
The powers that be come with force
To quell primal lusts & desires
Forbidding you of them
As they seductively
Dangle them before your eyes
Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled
That you no longer
Care for your world.
This cracked glass remains empty
Even though it is constantly being filled
Then spilled or leaked on the floor
Until you learn to lap it up
Like the lapdog that you have become
For their amusement.
You remain with a love for freedom
But your cage is so large
That you think you are free
Lost in societal fantasy.
You think for a while
That these fantasies are real
Until you come to your senses that aren’t
As you join other fools
In comfort that you're not the only
Broken-back pack-mule.
But in spite of it all
And in the face of them all
Don't let these birds of prey
And powers that be
Deprive you of what they
cannot see
In that hidden corner
Of what is still untouched--
The real you
Uninfected by the world.
Take care of your spiritual affairs.
Don't let the global beast
And your primal hissing forces
Make you be your own pallbearer.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
What if there's a door that's always sitting there.
The surface is bare.
And it carries a mysterious air.
No matter what people do to the door that just sits there.
The next morning the door is always repaired.
Something so curious like the door.
Everyone finds it a bore.
After all it's just a boring old door.
After seeing the damage disappear you would think people would write lore.
But the door isn't interesting, the door is a bore.
The door's been places.
The door has guarded libraries full of bookcases.
The door has seen everything from schools to fireplaces.
Whenever the place, the door has been goes away,
the door is always there insistent to stay.
But eventually the door gets found and gets transported away.
The door doesn't change.
The door is always a door but no one thinks it's strange.
But the door moves from place to place.
No one knows where or which door frame the door will choose as a base.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
I loved him with what was left of my heart.
I thought he cared about me, but he just used me.
I waited for him. I gave him so many chances because I believed he would change but after a year of waiting my heart knew that he left me and went away. The little left of my heart started to crush like the other pieces. But I just had a piece left and I guarded my heart for so long that my heart forgot what it was like to breathe.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 2:36 AM UTC
. . . I have been seeking a new kingdom to call home and your heart, like a castle hides behind great walls,
where both the strong and weak share embarassing flaws.
Unlike just any castle, yours is not on top of a great hill,
nor in the midist of a forest beyond where the waters chill,
its right infront of everyones face who decides to pay attention,
funny that many by pass it because they never seek it, but are ever seeking attention.
Unlike in fairytales, its guarded by pride, humbleness, care and a huge ego,
it rages against anyone who tries to love and care for it, but when it loves back, it never lets go.
Like any castle out there, forcing yourself in will hurt both you and those in it,
the hours you'll take destroying can not be compared to the years you'll take rebuilding it.
So I made up my mind to stand at the gates of these great walls, perfectly built brick for brick,
to proclaim my honour and loyalty for you,to make a promise and stick to it,
because I would rather help you guard it, than play pirate to break down your walls.
So Knight me your majesty, as I report for duty to guard and protect everything that lays behind your great walls. . .
. . . let me make it my new home. . .
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
A shadowed boy with piercing blue eyes
The quiet girl with guarded brown eyes
When brown eyes meet blue,
the world stops, then jerks suddenly
with a torn gaze from frightened souls
The demons awake filling troubled minds with haunting thoughts
The only problem...
A love that would have grown so strong...
Was cast aside as a stray thought.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
there’s a network of vigilance
around the guarded causeway
of walla walla
the stacked cinders
and smoking rails
leave nothing
but black hooded fate
gray halls
and razor scrawls
mark the hellion crust
abandoned overtures
and dead fill
cloud the horror
and retribution
of this hell hole
bloaters and skin heads
(with wretched memoirs)
shout incessantly
from the second floor
adolphus greely
reading over the
rights of nantucket
and banging his head
on the bent steel bars
with pockets pinched
and tumblers dangling
the stone walls soften...
a seminal moment
crosses the roo house
as mother mary
and the good painted warrior
loosen a finely tuned grip
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Blessed are they whose baby-souls are bright,
Whose brows are sealèd with the cross of light,
Whom God Himself has deign'd to robe in white—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who follow through the wild
His sacred footprints, as a little child;
Who strive to keep their garments undefiled—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who commune with the Christ,
Midst holy angels, at the Eucharist—
Who aye seek sunlight through the rain and mist—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they—the strong in faith and grace—
Who humbly fill their own appointed place;
They who with steadfast patience run the race—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they who suffer and endure—
They who through thorns and briars walk safe and sure;
Gold in the fire made beautiful and pure!—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they on whom the angels wait,
To keep them facing the celestial gate,
To help them keep their vows inviolate—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they to whom, at dead of night,—
In work, in prayer—though veiled from mortal sight,
The great King's messengers bring love and light—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they whose labours only cease
When God decrees the quiet, sweet release;
Who lie down calmly in the sleep of peace—
Blessed are they!
Whose dust is angel-guarded, where the flowers
And soft moss cover it, in this earth of ours;
Whose souls are roaming in celestial bowers—
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they—our precious ones—who trod
A pathway for us o'er the rock-strewn sod.
How are they number'd with the saints of God!
Blessed are they!
Blessed are they, elected to sit down
With Christ, in that day of supreme renown,
When His own Bride shall wear her bridal crown—
Blessed are they!
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