1 How cheering the thought that the spirits in bliss
Should bow their bright wings to a world such as this,
And leave the sweet songs of the mansions above,
To breathe o'er our bosom some message of love!
2 They come--on the wings of the morning they come,
To convoy the stranger in peace to his home;
The pilgrim to waft from this stormy abode,
And lay him to rest in the arms of his God.
3 They come when we wander, they come when we pray,
In mercy to guard us wherever we stray:
A glorious cloud their bright witness is given;
Encircling us here these angels of heaven.
Source: The Book of Worship #145