 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
VESPERS.
I SIT beneath the oriel porch,
That looketh toward the western sky,
And watch, while Eve, the shepherdess,
Her white flocks hurries by:
And watch the truant cloudlets stray
Far off, upon the azure deeps,
To lose themselves amid the stars,
That troop adown the steeps.
Poor little lambkins of the air!
White-fleeced like Innocence below,—
That, yearning still for brighter paths,
Too oft astray will go!
That looketh toward the western sky,
And watch, while Eve, the shepherdess,
Her white flocks hurries by:
And watch the truant cloudlets stray
Far off, upon the azure deeps,
To lose themselves amid the stars,
That troop adown the steeps.
Poor little lambkins of the air!
White-fleeced like Innocence below,—
That, yearning still for brighter paths,
Too oft astray will go!
The blesséd Night comes down to me,
And nun-like chants her solemn prayers;
The stars she counteth, as her beads,
The moon upon her bosom bears—
A white and holy scapular—
Beneath whose crescent rim afar
The azure secret of the skies,
In wondrous quiet, lies.
O Moon! O Stars! O silent Night!
My teachers, as my theme, are ye:
Fair missals for my faith to read—
My hope's dear rosary.
And nun-like chants her solemn prayers;
The stars she counteth, as her beads,
The moon upon her bosom bears—
271
Beneath whose crescent rim afar
The azure secret of the skies,
In wondrous quiet, lies.
O Moon! O Stars! O silent Night!
My teachers, as my theme, are ye:
Fair missals for my faith to read—
My hope's dear rosary.
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |