Angel (v.2)

An angel flew through the midnight sky,
And sang a quiet song;
The moon, the stars, and clouds in throng
Attended to that holy song.

He sang of bliss of sinless spirits
Beneath the shades of paradise gardens;
Of the great God he sang, and praise
Was genuine in all his ways.

A young soul in his arms he bore
Unto a world of grief and tears;
And echo of his song, evermore,
Stayed in that soul — though dry of tears, yet dear.

And long on earth that soul did pine,
With wondrous longing deeply filled;
And heaven’s sounds, so divine,
No earthly songs could ever still