XLIII.

Thy sad, sweet hymn, at eve, the seas along,-- Oh! the deep soul it breathed!--the love, the woe, The fervour, pour’d in that full gush of song, As it went floating through the fiery glow Of the rich sunset!--bringing thoughts of Spain, With all their vesper voices, o’er the main, Which seem’d responsive in its murmuring flow. “_Ave sanctissima!_”--how oft that lay Hath melted from my heart the martyr strength away!

Ave, sanctissima! ’Tis nightfall on the sea; Ora pro nobis! Our souls rise to thee!

Watch us, while shadows lie O’er the dim waters spread; Hear the heart’s lonely sigh-- _Thine_ too hath bled!

Thou that hast look’d on death, Aid us when death is near! Whisper of heaven to faith; Sweet Mother, hear!

Ora pro nobis! The wave must rock our sleep, Ora, Mater, ora! Thou star of the deep!