Poem by Alice Meynell

San Lorenzo's Mother

I had not seen my son's dear face
(He chose the cloister by God's grace)
    Since it had come to full flower-time.
    I hardly guessed at its perfect prime,
That folded flower of his dear face.

Mine eyes were veiled by mists of tears
When on a day in many years
    One of his Order came. I thrilled,
    Facing, I thought, that face fulfilled.
I doubted, for my mists of tears.

His blessing be with me for ever!
My hope and doubt were hard to sever.
    —That altered face, those holy weeds.
    I filled his wallet and kissed his beads,
And lost his echoing feet for ever.

If to my son my alms were given
I know not, and I wait for Heaven.
    He did not plead for child of mine,
    But for another Child divine,
And unto Him it was surely given.

There is One alone who cannot change;
Dreams are we, shadows, visions strange;
    And all I give is given to One.
    I might mistake my dearest son,
But never the Son who cannot change.

1. The Spring to the Summer
2. The Launch
3. The Joyous Wanderer
4. The Two Shakespeare Tercentenaries
5. The Two Questions

Print

1386 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version