A Statuette. br br I. br br MY white archangel, with thy steadfast eyes br Beholding all this empty ghost-filled room, br Thy clasped hands resting on the sword of doom, br Thy firm, close lips, not made for human sighs br Or smiles, or kisses sweet, or bitter cries, br But for divine exhorting, holy song br And righteous counsel, bold from seraph tongue. br Beautiful angel, strong as thou art wise, br Would that the sight of thee made wise and strong! br Would that this sheathèd sword of thine, which lies br Stonily idle, could gleam out among br The spiritual hosts of enemies br That tempting shriek--'Requite thou wrong with wrong.' br Lama Sabachthani,--How long, how long. br br br II. br br MICHAEL, the leader of the hosts of God, br Who warred with Satan for the body of him br Whom, living, God had loved--If cherubim br With cherubim contended for one clod br Of human dust, for forty years that trod br The gloomy desert of Heaven's chastisement, br Are there not ministering angels sent br To battle with the devils that roam abroad, br Clutching our living souls? 'The living, still br The living, they shall praise Thee!'--Let some great br Invisible spirit enter in and fill br The howling chambers of hearts desolate; br With looks like thine, O Michael, strong and wise, br My white archangel with the steadfast eyes.