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.
And thou wilt linger round my bed,
When life is ebbing low,
Of doubt, impatience and of gloom,
The jealous sleepless foe.
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