Classic Poem

Then for comfort, souls are seeking
Converse with the dead,
Need they artificial mediums
To transcribe what's said?
Soul to soul needs no transmitter;
Clearly we can hear
Angel guardians whisper guidance
To the listening ear.

Father, mother, dear departed,
Dry the tear that starts,
They can read the love we bear them
Written on our hearts.
Why not do as old creeds teach us—
Commune with saints above?
To our souls they bring a message
Brimming o'er with love.

For the child who trusts his Father,
Infinitely wise,
Puts his hand in His, confiding,—
There contentment lies.
Seek no farther then for guidance,
Darksome though the day,
Just hold tight, and go with Father,
Father knows the way.