THY rosary the flowers shall be, And buds and blossoms be to thee The mystic beads the friar counts. And they shall speak thy heart's delight, Its love and joy by day and night. Then make me thy confessor, dear, And we will spend the summer hours In counting o'er thy beads, the flowers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW VIOLETS CAME BLUE by ROBERT HERRICK THE VIRGIN'S SLUMBER SONG by JOSEPH FRANCIS CARLIN MACDONNELL RIDDLE: A CANDLE by MOTHER GOOSE THE WATCH OF A SWAN by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 2. ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE, 1740 by MARK AKENSIDE TO THE FONT-GEORGES by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE |