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.