"
The tapers were lit on the altar,
With garlands of lilies between;
And the steps leading up to the statue
Flashed bright with the roses' red sheen;
The sun-gleams came down from the heavens
Like angels, to hallow the scene,
And they seemed to kneel down with the shadows
That crept to the shrine of the Queen.
The singers, their hearts in their voices,
Had chanted the anthems of old,
And the last trembling wave of the Vespers
On the far shores of silence had rolled.
And there -- at the Queen-Virgin's altar --
The sun wove the mantle of gold
While the hands of the twilight were weaving
A fringe for the flash of each fold.
And wavelessly, in the deep silence,
Three banners hung peaceful and low --
They bore the bright blue of the heavens,
They wore the pure white of the snow
And beneath them fair children were kneeling,
Whose faces, with graces aglow,
Seemed sinless, in land that is sinful,
And woeless, in life full of woe.
Their heads wore the veil of the lily,
Their brows wore the wreath of the rose,
And their hearts like their flutterless banners,
Were stilled in a holy repose.
Their shadowless eyes were uplifted,
Whose glad gaze would never disclose
That from eyes that are most like the heavens
The dark rain of tears soonest flows.
The banners were borne to the railing,
Beneath them, a group from each band;
And they bent their bright folds for the blessing
That fell from the priest's lifted hand.
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