Her rosary o’er and o’er again,
For griefs that rent her heart in twain—
So new, and ah, so old!
(There’s “that poor boy who went astray,”
And lined her gentle brow;
There’s “them that’s wand’rin’ fur away,”
And “them that’s in their grave to-day”
And “beck’nin’ ” to her now.)
Refuge it gave the weary heart,
Beyond the sordid din