The Rosary

The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to me; I count them over, every one apart, My rosary. Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, To still a heart in absence wrung; I tell each bead unto the end and there A cross is hung. Oh memories that bless—and burn! Oh barren gain—and bitter loss! I kiss each bead, and strive at last to learn To kiss the cross, Sweetheart, To kiss the cross.

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