With Christmas but a week away,
Appeared the other night
An Angel in a dream to me:
Robed in holy white.
Displeased, I thought his countenance,
But when he spoke, at last,
I sensed compassion in the voice
That to me cried, “Hold fast!”
“Despair not mortal–grasp thy Faith
When Right’s just light grows dim;
The Wings of Peace shall once more beat
If hold we fast to Him.
Though Christmas finds the world upheaved,
Perhaps ’tis for the best;
Our Lord in past great things hast wrought
Through seeing wrongs redressed.”
My dream made end, but not before
The moral did unfold:
”Hold fast to Faith”, the Angel said,
“And it will thee uphold!”
by Ray Romine Tuesday, December 8, 1942
