Classic Poem

Then the deliverer came,
And, in the glorious name
Of the great God, took her away
High unto the regions of day.
And, ere she yielded her breath
Unto the angel of death,
These were the last words she spoke--
How sweetly from her lips they broke!--
"Saviour, receive my spirit,"
Breathed in all the merit
Of her Redeemer's love.
He stood waiting above,
Watching the angels move
Unto His throne.
And thus the angel came and went;
But they who by the pillow bent
Were not the power of vision lent
To see the holy being sent
Among them then,
And moving when
He passed away,
Felt not the soft zephyrs lay
Room for his wing,
Heard not the heavenly throng
Their glad anthem sing,
Till the fulness of their song
Made the high arches ring.