MEMORY'S ROSARY.
NCE I stood to count my blessings— Blessings on my path of life,But was lost in mystic figures, Shadowy numbers—no relief.Then I tried another process, Bid the leaves to count for me;Courted e'en the murmuring billows, To number them by sands of sea.
Last, I sought an unseen altar, Sacred shrine within the soul,Where a rosary was hanging Close beside a graven scroll.
On this scroll of pearly lustre, Intertwined with ivy spray,Were mystic words and flowers, with Lily, rose, magnolia.
