Father Ryan's Poems (53)
My Beads Sweet, blessed beads! I would not part With one of you for richest gem That gleams in kingly diadem; Ye know the history of my heart. For I have told you every grief In all the days of twenty years, And I have moistened you with tears, And in your decades found relief. Ah! time has fled, and friends have failed And joys have died; but in my needs Ye were my friends, my blessed beads! And ye consoled me when I wailed. For many and many a time, in grief, My weary fingers wandered round Thy circled chain, and always found In some Hail Mary sweet relief. How many a story you might tell Of inner life, to all unknown; trusted you and you alone, But ah! ye keep my secrets well. Ye are the only chain I wear —— A sign that I am but the slave, In life, in death, beyond the grave, Of Jesus and His Mother fair. |