ROBERT BROWNING.

* * * * *

THE TWO ANGELS.

  God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above: 
  The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love.

  “Arise,” He said, “my angels! a wail of woe and sin
  Steals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within.

  “My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells,
  The smoke of torment clouds the light and blights the asphodels.

  “Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain,
  Let Love drop smiles like sunshine, and Pity tears like rain!”

  Two faces bowed before the Throne, veiled in their golden hair;
  Four white wings lessened swiftly down the dark abyss of air.

  The way was strange, the flight was long; at last the angels came
  Where swung the lost and nether world, red-wrapped in rayless flame.

  There Pity, shuddering, wept; but Love, with faith too strong for fear,
  Took heart from God’s almightiness and smiled a smile of cheer.

  And lo! that tear of Pity quenched the flame whereon it fell,
  And, with the sunshine of that smile, hope entered into hell!

  Two unveiled faces full of joy looked upward to the Throne,
  Four white wings folded at the feet of Him who sat thereon!

  And deeper than the sound of seas, more soft than falling flake,
  Amidst the hush of wing and song the Voice Eternal spake: 

  “Welcome, my angels! ye have brought a holier joy to heaven;
  Henceforth its sweetest song shall be the song of sin forgiven!”

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

* * * * *

THE SELF-EXILED.

  There came a soul to the gate of Heaven
      Gliding slow—­
  A soul that was ransomed and forgiven,
      And white as snow: 
  And the angels all were silent.

  A mystic light beamed from the face
      Of the radiant maid,
  But there also lay on its tender grace
      A mystic shade: 
  And the angels all were silent.

  As sunlit clouds by a zephyr borne
      Seem not to stir,
  So to the golden gates of morn
      They carried her: 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Now open the gate, and let her in,
      And fling It wide,
  For she has been cleansed from stain of sin,”
      Saint Peter cried: 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Though I am cleansed from stain of sin,”
      She answered low,
  “I came not hither to enter in,
      Nor may I go:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “I come,” she said, “to the pearly door,
      To see the Throne
  Where sits the Lamb on the Sapphire Floor,
      With God alone:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “I come to hear the new song they sing
      To Him that died,
  And note where the healing waters spring
      From His pierced side:” 
  And the angels all were silent.