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Irish Jesuit Province
A MemoryAuthor(s): Mary CorbettSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 37, No. 435 (Sep., 1909), p. 505Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20502673 .
Accessed: 12/06/2014 21:48
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[ 505 ]
A MEMORY
SUMMER iS queen in the land, Our garden is passing sweet
No rose is plucked by your hand, The old paths know not your feet.
Beyond is the shining sea, You loved it in days gone by;
Fast closed are your eyes. Ah me t They look not on sea or sky.
You loved the murmur of bees At eve in our leafy limes,
The wind's low sigh in the trees, And all the sweet woodland chimes.
The thrush on the pine tree spire, The finch in the ivy-tod,
Set your poet heart afire,
IWith their vesper hymn to God.
But songs of the ninefold choir Fell sweet on your spirit ear,
When past was the penal fire, And spotless your soul, my dear.
When you passed the fixed stars Through the boundless fields of space,
The light through the crystal bars Sh#e out on your happy face.
And you entered amid the band Who worship around the Throne.
E'en there, in God's summer land, You will think of me, my own.
MARY CORBETT.
This content downloaded from 185.2.32.49 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 21:48:31 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
