Poems (Procter)/Evening Chant
EVENING CHANT.
TREW before our Lady's Picture Roses—flushing like the skyWhere the lingering western cloudlets Watch the daylight die.Violets steeped in dreamy odors, Humble as the Mother mild,Blue as were her eyes when watching O'er her sleeping Child.
Strew white Lilies, pure and spotless, Bending on their stalks of green,Bending down with tender pity,— Like our Holy Queen.
Let the flowers spend their fragrance On our Lady's own dear shrine,While we claim her gracious helping Near her Son divine.
Strew before our Lady's picture Gentle flowers, fair and sweet;Hope, and Fear, and Joy, and Sorrow, Place, too, at her feet.
Hark! the Angelus is ringing,— Ringing through the fading light,In the heart of every Blossom Leave a prayer to-night.
All night long will Mary listen, While our pleadings fond and deepOn their scented breath are rising For us—while we sleep.
Scarcely through the starry silence Shall one trembling petal stir,While they breathe their own sweet fragrance And our prayers—to Her.
Peace to every heart that loves her! All her children shall be blest:While She prays and watches for us. We will trust and rest.