I used to go and watch there,
Both night and morning too:-
It was my tears, I fancy,
That kept the violets blue.
I took her up: and once more
I felt the clinging hold,
And heard the ceaseless wailing
That wearied me of old.
I wandered, and I wandered,
With my burden on my breast,
Till I saw a church-door open,
And entered in to rest.
In the dim, dying daylight,
Set in a flowery shrine,
I saw the Virgin Mother
Holding her Child divine.
I knelt down there in silence,
And on the Altar-stone
I laid my wailing burden,
And came away—alone.
And now that little spirit,
That sobbed so all day long,
Is grown a shining Angel,
With wines both wide and strong.
She watches me from Heaven,
With loving, tender care,
And one day she has promised
That I shall find her there.
VERSE: DISCOURAGED
Where the little babbling streamlet
First springs forth to light,
Trickling through soft velvet mosses,
Almost hid from sight;
Vowed I with delight,—
“River, I will follow thee,
Through thy wanderings to the Sea!”
Gleaming ’mid the purple heather,
Downward then it sped,
Glancing through the mountain gorges,
Like a silver thread,
As it quicker fled,
Louder music in its flow,
Dashing to the Vale below.