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ITALIAN GIRL'S HYMN TO THE VIRGIN.
37
For thou, that once didst move,
In thy still beauty, through an early home,
Thou know'st the grief, the love,
The fear of woman's soul;—to thee I come!
Many, and sad, and deep,
Were the thoughts folded in thy silent breast;
Thou, too, couldst watch and weep—
Hear, gentlest mother! hear a heart opprest!
There is a wandering bark
Bearing one from me o'er the restless waves;
Oh! let thy soft eye mark
His course;—be with him, Holiest, guide and save!
My soul is on that way;
My thoughts are travellers o'er the waters dim
Through the long weary day,
I walk, o'ershadow'd by vain dreams of him.
