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Father Ryan's Poems (53)

6
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.

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