The Messengers

How shall we know the mighty ones Who carry the Lord's commands,— Raphael, Gabriel, Michael? Lo, In splendor of light they come and go, Like the rainbow with its bands.

Their robes are wrought of the color of flame, Scarlet, yellow, and blue. Raphael's yellow, pure as the sun, That must endure while the ages run, As love itself will do.

Gabriel's blue, as clear as a lake That mirrors truth from its heart, And mystical as the haze that lies Over our mountain paradise,— Passing the reach of art.

And Michael's scarlet, brave and glad As the woods in early fall, When beauty marches across the world, And her banners of triumph are unfurled Along our mountain wall.

So is the transport of life renewed By the Archangels' aid, And love and mystery and power Are given to man with every hour,— As it was since the worlds were made.