A Poem of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Atheneum, 1829/Hymn of the Calabrian Shepherds to the Virgin
HYMN OF THE CALABRIAN SHEPHERDS TO THE VIRGIN.
BY L. E. L.
A peasant group, whose lips are full of prayer
And hearts of home affections, such as flow
So naturally in piety.
Darker and darker fall around
The shadows from the pine,
It is the hour with hymn and prayer
To gather round thy shrine.
Hear us, sweet Mother! thou hast known
Our earthly hopes and fears,
The bitterness of mortal toil,
The tenderness of tears.
We pray thee first for absent ones,
Those who knelt with us here—
The father, brother, and the son,
The distant, and the dear.
We pray thee for the little bark
Upon the stormy sea;
Affection's anxiousness of love,
Is it not known to thee?
The soldier, he who only sleeps
His head upon his brand,
Who only in a dream can see
His own beloved land.
The wandering minstrel, he who gave
Thy hymns his earliest tone,
Who strives to teach a foreign tongue
The music of his own.
Kind Mother, let them see again
Their own Italian shore;
Back to the home, which wanting them,
Seems like a home no more.
Madonna, keep the cold north wind
Amid his native seas,
So that no withering blight come down
Upon our olive trees.
And bid the sunshine glad our hills,
The dew rejoice our vines,
And bid the healthful sea-breeze sweep
In music through the pines.
Pray for us, that our hearts and homes
Be kept in fear and love;
Love for all things around our path,
And fear for those above.
Thy soft blue eyes are filled with tears,
Oh! let them wash away
The soil of our unworthiness,—
Pray for us, Mother, pray!
We know how vain the fleeting flowers,
Around thine altar hung;
We know how humble is the hymn
Before thine image sung.
But wilt thou not accept the wreath,
And sanctify the lay;
We trust to thee, our hopes and fears,—
Pray for us, Mother, pray!