THE LOST ANGEL

By Frederic Manning

Thy love is as clear rivers to a thirsty land,

Even as the rivers of earth bringing the wonder of boughs,

The rivers of thy love have filled up the channels of time.

Earth is a lure unto mine eyes. Lo! now I love

The fragile fleeting days, warm lips of women.

Delights that slip away as fish through water.

O, God, thou knowest what is in my heart.

Soiled am I now with dust, and frustrate glories

Wane, and are tarnished on my darkened brows;

Yea, all my love is for the joys that perish.

How may mine eyes behold my naked soul

No more arrayed in wings of my desire?

The cold rains smite me, and the winds of sorrow

Have driven me down the bitter ways of time.

O, God, thou knowest what is in my heart.

How shall I come again into my peace,

So heavy is the darkness on eyes and feet?

One sayeth: Lo, now, God's lost angel crowned

With broken hopes, and clothed with grief, and mute,

Sitting with his despair through the long starless night,

I, God's lost angel. Even thus I grow

Starry amid the solitudes, yea, crowned

With my despair, throned even in my fall,

O, God, thou knowest what is in my heart.