By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson ANGELS in the early morning May be seen the dews among, Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying: Do the buds to them belong? Angels when the sun is hottest May be seen the sands among, Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying; Parched the flowers they bear along.

Surrounding you are angels, They are there to guide your path, If weakness overcomes you, They'll give you strength if you will ask. They are your protection When life seems too hard to bear, And though you feel alone at times, The angels ... they are there. Their faces may be hidden And their voices [...]