And now, before the fading flow’rs have strown
Their last, sweet, withered petals round the place;
Or early snows lie white upon the stone
That shuts from sight each well-remembered face—
Before the shades of the anointed Dead
Have melted from Saint Mary’s aisles away,
We hear once more the mourner’s solemn tread—
Another saint is here in death, to-day!
Dear Sister Gonzaga! good mother, friend
Of Christ’s own little ones—His precious poor!
From Life’s beginning to its blessed end
Thy Words were Wisdom’s, and thy works were pure.
In tender youth, betrothed to thy Lord;
For three-score years and ten His faithful spouse,
He was thine aim—thy solace—thy reward—
Bound to His Sacred Heart by deathless vows!
Toiler of yore with Kenrick, Neuman, Wood,
One of our Faith’s first local pioneers!
So long hath been thy service, and so good,
Thou needest not our prayers or pitying tears!
For death is gain to thee, tho’ loss to all
Thou leavest here. Thy prayers must plead for them.
The orphans’ tears that sparkle on thy pall
Shall prove on high thy brightest diadem.
The dear old heart that loved them now is stilled,
The dear old voice they loved is heard no more;
She waits afar with ardent yearning filled
To bid them welcome to the eternal shore!
Prate not of sculptur’d immortality—
Her children’s virtues shall her heart content
If all who look upon their lives shall see
In each their Mother’s lasting monument.
The old-time friends may leave us, one by one,
The ancient landmarks swiftly fade away—
The good that Sister Gonzaga hath done
Shall live when brass and marble both decay!
Then lay her gently down, in peace and trust,
Where angel-memories shall guard her bed;
Her soul is with her God; her virgin dust
Sleeps sweetly with Saint Mary’s sainted dead!