<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391538" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Italian Girl's Hymn To The Virgin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the deep hour of dreams,<br>Through the dark woods, and past the moaning sea,<br>And by the star-light gleams,<br>Mother of sorrows! lo, I come to thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unto thy shrine I bear<br>Night-blowing flowers, like my own heart, to lie<br>All, all unfolded there,<br>Beneath the meekness of thy pitying eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For thou, that once didst move,<br>In thy still beauty, through an early home,<br>Thou knowest the grief, the love,<br>The fear of woman's soul; - to thee I come!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Many, and sad, and deep,<br>Were the thoughts folded in thy silent breast;<br>Thou, too, couldst watch and weep -<br>Hear, gentlest mother! hear a heart oppressed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a wandering bark<br>Bearing one from me o'er the restless wave:<br>Oh! let thy soft eye mark<br>His course; - be with him, holiest, guide and save!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul is on that way;<br>My thoughts are travellers o'er the waters dim;<br>Through the long weary day<br>I walk, o'ershadowed by vain dreams of him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Aid him - and me, too, aid!<br>Oh! 'tis not well, this earthly love's excess!<br>On thy weak child is laid <br>The burden of too deep a tenderness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too much o'er <br>him<br>is poured<br>My being's hope - scarce leaving Heaven a part;<br>Too faithfully adored,<br>Oh! make not him the chastener of my heart!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tremble with a sense<br>Of grief to be; - I hear a warming low<br>Sweet mother! call me hence!<br>This wild idolatry must end in woe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The troubled joy of life,<br>Love's lightning happiness, my soul hath known<br>And, worn with feverish strife,<br>Would fold its wings; take back, take back thine own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! how the wind swept by!<br>The tempest's voice comes rolling o'er the wave - <br>Hope of the sailor's eye,<br>And maiden's heart, blest mother, guide and save!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391538" data-title="Italian Girl's Hymn To The Virgin de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="In the deep hour of dreams, Through the dark woods, and past the moaning sea, And by the star-light gleams, Mother of sorrows! lo, I come to thee! Unto thy shrine I bear Night-blowing flowers, like my own heart, to lie All, all unfolded there, Be..."></div> </div> </div>

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