Classic Poem

Ferns and the Cross! What memories of the past;
What shadows of the dim and future years,
Like silent leaves in autumn falling fast,
Throng on my heart, still hoping that at last
The Cross shall triumph over mortal fears!

But when again its shadow shall be seen
Upon the ferns, although in heaven appears
The light that casts it, and though intervene
Long years of happy life and hope serene,
I know it will again be seen through tears!