SING TO THE ANGELS, LOVE,
W. R. Wills.
0 ! sing, for it comforts a weary heart When a trial presses it sore ; O ! sing, when the soul is lightsome and gay, And trials and sorrows are o'er. The blackbird he singeth amid the storm To the coo of the woodland dove ; So strike tho strings of thy lyre and sing A sweet song to the angels, love. Thy way may be thorny, gloomy thy sky, And thy day-dreams shaddowed and dim ; Yet the nightingale sings her song divine To the hosts of the cherubim. So whether thy lot is pleasant or sad— A pet lamb or a wounded doveLook upward and onward, and strive to sing A sweet song to the angels, love. For are they not keeping their watch o'er us When the tempests around us rii q ? Are not their fair wings around us spread When nearer the cross we cling. So if thou art weary or gladsome hero, Or thy hopes be with those above, O! strike the string of thy lyre, and sing A sweet song to the angels, love.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TAN18840329.2.32.2
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Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 43, 29 March 1884, Page 5
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184SING TO THE ANGELS, LOVE, Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 43, 29 March 1884, Page 5
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