Can I tell you of a vision fair
Which caused me neither fright nor fear
Amidst a rolling sea of pain whilst my strength a fever drained
It was quite dark within my room as in a deep buried tomb
Suddenly a faint light I saw and I layed back in bed with awe
It grew into a vision fair, 'twas a lovely guardian angel dear
She sat into my old wheelchair and smiled at me with tender care
I heard her speak in a melodious voice
"It was the Savior's blessed choice
That I should come to comfort you,
He saw that you His commands pursue
His faithful servant you have become
Though to a virus you have succumbed"
I snuggled into her arms warm and then I knew I wasn't in any harm
"Can I call you sweet angel, Clair?" I asked her right then and there
I named her Clair as she was the light that crept into my room that night
