The lowly Mother-Maid, Lady of Grace,
Foligno’s Queen watching the holy place.
And shrined within lay martyr-saint of Rome—
Vial and bones from ancient catacomb
Of that far city that seemed far no more,
Whose faith and speech met at the low church-door.
Seeming that speech true witness of the peace
Won years ago, when weary earth’s release
The angels chanted in the midnight sky,
And earth’s Redeemer waked with infant cry: