My oldest friend, mine from the hour
When first I drew my breath;
My faithful friend, that shall be mine,
Unfailing till my death.
Thou hast been ever at my side;
My Maker to thy trust
Consigned my soul, what time he framed
The infant child of dust.
Thou wast my sponsor at the font;
And thou, each budding year,
Didst whisper elements of truth
Into my childish ear.
Mine when I stand before the Judge;
And mine, if spared to stay
Within the golden furnace till
My sin is burned away.
And mine, O brother of my soul,
When my release shall come;
Thy gentle arms shall lift me then,
Thy wings shall waft me home.
Blessed John Henry Cardinal Newman’s Poem to His Guardian Angel