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We fling up flowers and laugh, we laugh across the wine;
With wine we dull our souls and careful strains of art;
Our cups are polished skulls round which the roses twine:
None dares to look at Death who leers and lurks apart.
Move on, white company, whom that has not sufficed!
Our viols cease, our wine is death, our roses fail:
Pray for our heedlessness, O dwellers with the Christ!
Though the world fall apart, surely ye shall prevail.
MARIS STELLA
By Augusta Theodosia Drane
Mary, beautiful and bright
"Velut Maris Stella,"
Brighter than the morning light,
"Parens et Puella,"
I cry to thee, look down on me; Ladye, pray thy Son for me,
"Tam pia,"
That thy child may come to thee,
"Maria."
Sad the earth was and forlorn,
"Eva peccatrice,"
Until Christ our Lord was born
"De te Genitrice";
