Part 26

O Brow of Three-in-the evening, Thou wearest a crimson crown; Thou art Priest of the hours forever, And thy voice, as thou goest down

The cycles of time, still murmurs The story of love each day: "I held in death the Eternal, In the long and the far-away."

O Heart of Three-in-the evening, Mine beats with thine to-day; Thou tellest the olden story, I kneel -- and I weep and pray.

____ Boulogne, sur mer.

My Beads

Sweet, blessed beads! I would not part With one of you for richest gem That gleams in kingly diadem; Ye know the history of my heart.

For I have told you every grief In all the days of twenty years, And I have moistened you with tears, And in your decades found relief.

Ah! time has fled, and friends have failed And joys have died; but in my needs Ye were my friends, my blessed beads! And ye consoled me when I wailed.

For many and many a time, in grief, My weary fingers wandered round Thy circled chain, and always found In some Hail Mary sweet relief.

How many a story you might tell Of inner life, to all unknown; I trusted you and you alone, But ah! ye keep my secrets well.

Ye are the only chain I wear -- A sign that I am but the slave, In life, in death, beyond the grave, Of Jesus and His Mother fair.

At Night

Dreary! weary! Weary! dreary! Sighs my soul this lonely night. Farewell gladness! Welcome sadness! Vanished are my visions bright.

Stars are shining! Winds are pining! In the sky and o'er the sea; Shine forever Stars! but never Can the starlight gladden me.

Stars! you nightly Sparkle brightly, Scattered o'er your azure dome; While earth's turning, There you're burning, Beacons of a better home.

Stars! you brighten And you lighten Many a heart-grief here below; But your gleaming And your beaming Cannot chase away my woe.

Stars! you're shining, I am pining -- I am dark, but you are bright; Hanging o'er me And before me Is a night you cannot light.

Night of sorrow, Whose to-morrow I may never, never see, Till upon me And around me Dawns a bright eternity.

Winds! you're sighing, And you're crying, Like a mourner o'er a tomb; Whither go ye, Whither blow ye, Wailing through the midnight gloom?

Chanting lowly, Softly, lowly, Like the voice of one in woe; Winds so lonely, Why thus moan ye? Say, what makes you sorrow so?

Are you grieving For your leaving Scenes where all is fair and gay? For the flowers In their bowers, You have met with on your way?

For fond faces, For dear places, That you've seen as on you swept? Are you sighing, Are you crying, O'er the memories they have left?

Earth is sleeping While you're sweeping Through night's solemn silence by; On forever, Pausing never -- How I love to hear you sigh!

Men are dreaming, Stars are gleaming In the far-off heaven's blue; Bosom aching, Musing, waking, Midnight winds, I sigh with you!

Nocturne ["Betimes, I seem to see in dreams"]

Betimes, I seem to see in dreams What when awake I may not see; Can night be God's more than the day? Do stars, not suns, best light his way? Who knoweth? Blended lights and shades Arch aisles down which He walks to me.

I hear him coming in the night Afar, and yet I know not how; His steps make music low and sweet; Sometimes the nails are in his feet; Does darkness give God better light Than day, to find a weary brow?

Does darkness give man brighter rays To find the God, in sunshine lost? Must shadows wrap the trysting-place Where God meets hearts with gentlest grace? Who knoweth it? God hath His ways For every soul here sorrow-tossed.