High
up
in the courts of Heaven to-day
A
little dog-angel waits,
With
the other angels he will not play,
But he
sits alone at the gates;
"For I
know that my master will come," says he:
"And
when he comes he will call for me."
He
sees
the spirits that pass him by
As they hasten towards the throne,
And he watches them with a wistful eye
As he sits at the gates alone;
"But I know if I just wait patiently
That some day my master will come," says he.
And his master, far on the earth below,
As he sits in his easy chair,
Forgets sometimes, and he whistles low
For the dog that is not there;
And the little dog-angel cocks his ears,
And dreams that his master's call he hears.
And I know, when at length his master waits
Outside in the dark and cold
For the hand of Death to open the gates
That lead to those courts of gold,
The little dog-angel's eager bark
Will comfort his soul in the shivering dark.
