The Angels

I’ve often heard great clergy preach in days long since gone by,
And pictured wondrous angel hosts, which seemed to dwell on high,
But though I’ve searched the starry skies for many’s the weary year,
I never saw an angle there, amongst the starry spheres.

But trouble reached my home at last, and grief and pain I felt,
‘Til in the District Hospital I lay at Magherafelt,
But grief gave place to hope at last, and banished was despair,
When I beheld before my eyes a lot of angels there.

They had white veils upon their heads, with dresses of the same,
Which differed somewhat in degree, strict order to maintain,
But there was an angelic look upon each smiling face,
As they brought hope through every ward to many’s the doubtful case.

They soothed the ill, they helped the weak, and eased the ones in pain,
And all who look to them for aid, do never seek in vain,
For each has an appointed task, the high ones and the low,
And each performs their duty well, as through the wards they go.

And still the preachers come and go, to talk, to preach, to pray,
And still they think of angel throngs, that’s somehow far away,
But I’ll no longer search the skies, or think of distant spheres,
For Heaven’s in Co. Derry, as we have the angels here.