Classic Poem

Hail to these venerable wrecks of Time!
Precious and rare memorials of the brave,
The wise — the good — the great of every clime
Where Man is not — or should not be — a slave!

To these most sacred treasures of the heart
In deep, devout humility I bow,
Linger before the shrine, and loath to part
Repeat my " ave " and renew my vow.

An unknown lonely Pilgrim from afar,
By shipwreck on the World's wide desert cast,
My only guide a solitary star,
I reached this Temple's vestibule at last;

And bending thus, as at Loretto's fane,
I pour most fervently my secret prayer,
That after years like centuries of pain,
I too, the Virgin-Mother's Peace share.

Offering alas! it is not mine to make —
I have none worthy of Madonna's name,
To meditate and worship, for her sake —
Not to record my piety, I came.

But yet if more than silver, gems, or gold,
Avail the widow's mite, and sinner's tear,
A tribute never to be bought or sold,
The honest tribute of the heart, is here!