tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899

If I had the eyes of Heaven,

That could all things see,

Oh what glorious surprises

All around would be!

I should see all still and stately

God's white Angels tread,

Watch me with their eyes of glory,

Sit beside my bed.

When I take the broth to Granny

In her garret mean,

I should see them wait around her,

As around a Queen.

Through the snow in dusky twilight,

When the winds are wild,

See them speed where lost and lonely

Strays a little child.

Through the stillness of the noonday

See them swiftly rise,

Bearing one with face uplighted

Far into the skies.

Meet them in the lonely places,

In the busy street,

Ever calm as skies of summer,

Ever strong and fleet.

Glad and tender in their service,

For God's love they know

To the smallest and the meanest

Of His own below.