The Angels of Man

The word of the Lord of the outer worlds

Went forth on the deeps of space,

That Michael, Gabriel, Rafael,

Should stand before his face,

The seraphs of his threefold will,

Each in his ordered place.

Brave Michael, the right hand of God,

Strong Gabriel, his voice,

Fair Rafael, his holy breath

That makes the world rejoice,—

Archangels of omnipotence,

Of knowledge, and of choice;

Michael, angel of loveliness

In all things that survive,

And Gabriel, whose part it is

To ponder and contrive,

And Rafael, who puts the heart

In every thing alive.

Came Rafael, the enraptured soul,

Stainless as wind or fire,

The urge within the flux of things,

The life that must aspire,

With whom is the beginning,

The worth, and the desire;

And Gabriel, the all-seeing mind,

Bringer of truth and light,

Who lays the courses of the stars

In their stupendous flight,

And calls the migrant flocks of spring

Across the purple night;

And Michael, the artificer

Of beauty, shape, and hue,

Lord of the forges of the sun,

The crucible of the dew,

And driver of the plowing rain

When the flowers are born anew.

Then said the Lord: “Ye shall account

For the ministry ye hold,

Since ye have been my sons to keep

My purpose from of old.

How fare the realms within your sway

To perfections still untold?”

Answered each as he had the word.

And a great silence fell

On all the listening hosts of heaven

To hear their captains tell,—

With the breath of the wind, the call of a bird.

And the cry of a mighty bell.

Then the Lord said: “The time is ripe

For finishing my plan,

And the accomplishment of that

For which all time began.

Therefore on you is laid the task

Of the fashioning of man;

“In your own likeness shall he be,

To triumph in the end.

I only give him Michael's strength

To guard him and defend,

With Gabriel to be his guide,

And Rafael his friend.

“Ye shall go forth upon the earth,

And make there Paradise,

And be the angels of that place

To make men glad and wise,

With loving-kindness in their hearts,

And knowledge in their eyes.

“And ye shall be man's counsellors

That neither rest nor sleep,

To cheer the lonely, lift the frail,

And solace them that weep.

And ever on his wandering trail

Your watch-fires ye shall keep;

“Till in the far years he shall find

The country of his quest,

The empire of the open truth,

The vision of the best,

Foreseen by every mother saint

With her new-born on her breast.”