Angels In The Air.

[Suggested by the remark of a little girl, who, observing largesnow-flakes falling, exclaimed to her sister, ‘ Oh, don’t hurt themMary ; there’s angels in them !’ ]

Dark, darker grew the leaden sky, The wind was moaning low, And, shrouding all the herbless ground, Sad, silently, and slow, Wending from heaven its weary way Fell the white flaked snow A little child looked wondering on, As larger flakes fell near, And, clutching at her sister’s hand, Exclaimed with hushing fear, ‘ Oh do not, Mary, do them harm— There’s angels in them, dear !’ ‘ ’Twas but,’ say’st thou, ‘a child’s conceit ;’ But ah, the lesson prize— High instinct is best reasoning, The pure are still the wise : Man’s vaunted head what poor exchange For childhood’s heart and eyes ! Things are to us as we to them ; Thought is but feeling’s wing ; And did but our cold withered hearts To earth less closely cling, We might see angels everywhere, And God in everything ! S. W. Partridge .