The Wayback Machine -






  At morn at noon at twilight dim
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and wo in good and ill
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the Hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate oercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!




Beloved! amid the earnest woes
     That crowd around my earthly path
(Drear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)
    My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me
     Like some enchanted far‑off isle
In some tumultuous sea
Some ocean throbbing far and free
    With storms but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just oer that one bright island smile.


TO  F������s S. O������d


Thou wouldst be loved? then let thy heart
    From its present pathway part not!
Being everything which now thou art,
   Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways,
   Thy grace, thy more than beauty,
Shall be an endless theme of praise,
   And love� a simple dut