To My Guardian Angel

Merciful spirit! who thy bright throne above Hast left, to wander through this dismal earth With me, poor child of sin!—Angel of love! Whose guardian wings hung o'er me from my birth, And who still walk'st unwearied by my side, How oft, O thou compassionate! must thou mourn Over the wayward deeds, the thoughts of pride, That thy pure eyes behold. Yet not aside From thy sad task dost thou in anger turn; But patiently, thou hast but gazed and sighed, And followed still, striving with the divine Powers of thy soul for mastery over mine; And though all line of human hope be past, Still fondly watching, hoping, to the last.