When at the end of some encumbered day
I turn in quietness to God,
Confident of His unlabored grace,
Comes the sweet thought
"I am cared for by angels."
Legions of angels,
Love's teeming thoughts,
Serene, enfold me.
So as the day recedes,
I can exchange
Its shrill cacophony of error
For Love's clear concert of true harmony.
"I am cared for by angels."
