The huge, rough stones from out the mine,
Unsightly and unfair,
Have veins of purest metal hid
Beneath the surface there.
Few rocks so bare but to their hights
Some tiny moss-plant clings;
And on the peaks so desolate,
The sea-bird sits and sings.
Believe me, too, that rugged souls,
Beneath their rudeness, hide
Much that is beautiful and good...
We've all our angel side.

In all there is an inner depth,
A far-off, secret way,
Where, through the windows of the soul,
God sends His smiling ray.
In every human heart there is
A faithful, sounding chord
That may be struck, unknown to us,
By some sweet, loving word.
The wayward will in man may try
Its softer thoughts to hide...
Some unexpected tone reveals
It has an angel side.

Despised, and lone, and trodden down,
Dark with the shades of sin,
Deciphering not those halo-lights
Which God has lit within;
Groping about in endless night,
Poor, poisoned souls they are,
Who guess not what life's meaning is
Nor dream of heaven afar.
0h that some gentle hand of love
Their stumbling steps would guide,
And show them that, amidst it all,
Life has its angel side !
Author Unknown
Gems of Literature, Art and Music, 1887