The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL.



WHEN from my task I fain would steal,
     And into vacuous languor slip,
With inward bleeding then I feel
     My guardian angel’s whip.

Or when to empty revelry

5

     I give my spirit, though it sears
And shames that inner self, I see
     My guardian angel’s tears.

Or when I yield to grief or fear,
     Or scorn, or say that life is chaff,

10

Blown by an idle wind, I hear
     My guardian angel’s laugh. [Page 113]