What will ye bring, O angels, To soothe the troubled breast? “We will bring the cherished loved one From the mansions of the blest. Like a wandering dove returning, He shall nestle in each heart; They will feel his blesséd presence, And their sorrow shall depart. “We will lead them from their darkness Out to the shining light, And scenes of heavenly beauty Shall greet their longing sight. There shall they see their loved one, Free from his earthly pain; Their souls shall cease from sorrow, And shall ask him not again. “O, we only opened gently His little prison door; He stepped into the sunshine, And then returned no more. He dwells not now in weakness, In the spirit’s narrow cell, But yet remains forever To those who loved him well.” What will ye bring, O teachers! To those who suffer loss? “We will bring them faith, and patience, And strength to bear their cross,-- To bear it bravely, calmly, Although the way seem long, Till hearts that bled with anguish Shall burst into a song. “They shall walk in Faith’s clear sunshine, With souls renewed in youth, And the little child shall lead them To a knowledge of the truth. Tell them the loving angels Watch o’er their darling boy-- They are sharers of their sorrow, And helpers of their joy.” “BIRDIE’S” SPIRIT-SONG. [At the conclusion of a lecture in Boston, the following poem was addressed to the chairman (Mr. L. B. Wilson). It purported to come from Anna Cora, Mr. Wilson’s only child, who passed to the spirit-world at the age of 12 years and 7 months. She was always called by the pet name “Birdie.”] With rosebuds in my hand, Fresh from the Summer-land, Father, I come and stand Close by your side. You cannot see me here, Or feel my presence near, And yet your “Birdie” dear Never has died. O, no! for angels bright, Out of the blesséd light, Shone on my wondering sight, Singing, “We come! Lamb for the fold above-- Tender, young, nestling dove-- Safe in our arms of love, Haste to thy home.” Mother! I could not stay; In a sweet dream I lay, Wafted to Heaven away, Far from the night; Then, with a glad surprise, Did I unclose my eyes, Under those cloudless skies, Smiling with light! O! were you with me there, Free from your earthly care, All of my joy to share, I were more blest. But it is best to stay Here in the earthly way, Till the good angels say, “Come to your rest!” Check, then, the falling tear; Think of me still as near. Father and mother dear, Soon on that shore, Where all the loved ones meet, Resting your pilgrim feet, Shall you with blessings greet “Birdie” once more. MY SPIRIT-HOME.