Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1841-10-18
POETRY.
From the Democratic Review for August.
THE BOY AND HIS ANGEL.

ny MRS. c. NJ. SAWYER.
" On, mother, I've been with an angel to day!
Twas out, alone In the forest at play,
Chasing AFTER the butterflies, watching the hoes,
And hearing the woodpecker tapping the trees;
80 Played and played, till, so weary grew,
Isat down to rest in the shade of yew,
While the birds sang 50 sweetly high up on i,s top,
heid my breath, mother, for fear they would stopl
Thus long while sat, looking up to the sky,
And watching the clouds that went hurryng by,
That sounded as il, 'cOme oh brotherp i said
And there, right up over the top of the tree,
IN mother, an angel was bock'ning to me
And brother morc come, oh brother he cried
And hew on light pinons close down by my side!
and, mother, oh, never was being so bright,
As the one which then beamed my wondering sight
HIS face was as fair on the delicate SHE'LL
llis hair down his shoulders in fair ringlets fell,
W.T., With eyes resting on me, so melting with love,
were as son and as mild as the eyes of dovol
And somehow dear mother, felt not afraid,
As his hand on my brow he care ssingly laid
Aud whispered so softly and gently to me,
Come, brother, the angels are waiting for thcon
" And then my forehead ho tendery pressed
Such sscs-oh, mother they thrilled through my Breast
As swiftly US lightning leaps down from on high
When the chariot Of God rolls along the black sky
While his BREATH hoating round me- so tho breeze
That played in my tresses, and rustled the trees;
Al last on my head deep blessing he poured,
Then plumodhis bright pinions and upward he scared
lie seemed to font there ike glttering Star,
Yet still my eyes followed his radiant flight,
Till lost in the azure he passed from my sight
1'hen oh, how feared, as caught the last CLEAN
OF his vanishing form, it was only dream
When soft voices whispered once from the tree,
Come, brother, the angels are waiting for thce""
oh, pale grew that mother, and heavy her heart,
For she knew her fair boy from this world depart
That his bright locks must fade in the dust of the tomb
Ere the autumn winds whored the summers rich bloom
Oh how his young footsteps she watched, day by day,
Aud his delicate form wasted slowly away,
Till the so light of heaven seemed shed DER his face,
And he cropt up to die in her loving embrace
" Oh clasp me, dear mother close, close TO your breas
On that gentle pillow again let me rest
Let me once more gaze up to that dear, lovingcye,
And then, OH methnks, can willingly die
Now kiss me, dear mother! oh, quickly for SEQ
The BRIGHT blessed angels are waiting for me!
Oh wild was the anguish that swept through her breast
As the long, frantic kiss his pale lips she pressed
And felt the vain search of his soft, pleading eye,
As 1t strove to meet hers tho fair boy could did,
" / see you not, mother, for darkness and night,
Arc hiding your dear, loving face from my sight
But hear your low sobbings-dcar mother, goodbye
The angels ready to bear high
will wait for you thero-but oh, tarry not long,
Lest grief your absence should sadden my song !"
He ceased, and his hands meeky clasped his breast,
While his sweet face sank down on its pillow of rest,
Then, closing his eyes, all rayless and dim,
Went up with the angels that waited for him!