Mater Dolorosa

The nuns sing, "Ora pro nobis;" The casements glitter above; And the beautiful Virgin, whose robe is Woven of infinite love, Infinite love and sorrow, Prays for them there on high-- Who has most need of her prayers,--to-morrow Shall tell them!--they or I?

Up in the hills together We loved, where the world was true; Our world of the whin and heather, Our skies of a nearer blue; A blue from which one borrows A faith that helps one die-- O Mother, thou Mother of Sorrows, None needs such more than I!

We lived, we loved unwedded-- Love's sin and its shame that slays!-- No ill of the years we dreaded, No day of their coming days; Their coming days, their many Trials by noon and night-- And I know no land, not any Where the sun shines half so bright.

Was he false to me, my Mother! Or I to him, my God!-- Who gave thee right, O brother! To take God's right and rod! God's rod of avenging morrows-- And the life here in my side!-- O Mother, sweet Mother of Sorrows, Would that I, too, had died!

By the wall of the Chantry kneeling I pray, and the organ rings, "Gloria! gloria!" pealing, "Sancta Maria!" sings. They will find us dead to-morrow By the wall of their nunnery-- O Mother, thou Mother of Sorrow, His unborn babe and me.