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Poem
October 5, 1847
The New Hampshire Gazette And Republican Union
Portsmouth, Rockingham County, New Hampshire
What is this article about?
Leigh Hunt's poem imagines an angel visiting to share news of deceased loved ones, then reflects that everyday family members like children, friends, and wives are angels in the making, preparing souls for eternal reunion.
Clipping
OCR Quality
100%
Excellent
Full Text
AN ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.
BY LEIGH HUNT.
How sweet it were, if, without feeble fright,
Of dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening, in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and the children who have
never
Been dead indeed—as we shall know for ever.
Alas! we think not that we daily see
About our hearths—angels, that are to be
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air——
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.
BY LEIGH HUNT.
How sweet it were, if, without feeble fright,
Of dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening, in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and the children who have
never
Been dead indeed—as we shall know for ever.
Alas! we think not that we daily see
About our hearths—angels, that are to be
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air——
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.
What sub-type of article is it?
Ode
What themes does it cover?
Religious Faith
Friendship
Love Courtship
What keywords are associated?
Angel In The House
Leigh Hunt
Family Angels
Eternal Reunion
Souls Preparation
Dear Friends
Children Death
What entities or persons were involved?
By Leigh Hunt.
Poem Details
Title
An Angel In The House.
Author
By Leigh Hunt.
Key Lines
How Sweet It Were, If, Without Feeble Fright, / Of Dying Of The Dreadful Beauteous Sight,
News Of Dear Friends, And The Children Who Have / Never / Been Dead Indeed—As We Shall Know For Ever.
Alas! We Think Not That We Daily See / About Our Hearths—Angels, That Are To Be
A Child, A Friend, A Wife Whose Soft Heart Sings / In Unison With Ours, Breeding Its Future Wings.