WHITE Beads .

From loving fingers drop the Ave-beads —
White, as the lilies Gabriel doth bear,
Greeting the Angels' Queen, whose maiden prayer
Pleads with Jehovah her loved Israel's needs;
White, as the snow that lieth Christmas morn,
Unbroken yet by footstep falling o'er:
White, as the doves the humble Mother bore
Unto the temple, with her pure First-born:
White, as her soul to whom we trustful call,
Mindful of life that sudden perisheth,
" Ave, Maria; hold us dear in death,
Loosen with thy pure touch from earthly thrall
Our struggling prayers, so poor and faint of breath" —
So each white bead grows perfect act of faith.

G REEN Beads .

Drop one by one the beads of malachite,
By martyr-pontiff blessed — " Cross of the cross,"
Brave hope uplifted in night's hour of loss,
Strong light unfailing in wrong's night of might.
Thoughts steeped in tears fall with each rounded gem —
The bitter chalice of Gethsemani;
The rabble's choice of Caear's sovereignty;
Rome seeming shadow of Jerusalem,
Saint-trodden city still more blessed grown
Through gentle presence of a wounded heart —
Of heavenly model earthly counterpart —
Bearing the cross 'mid mockery from its own;
Blest cross, that shineth in tear-clouded eyes,
E'er-budding hope of opening paradise.

R ED Beads .

And last, from lingering fingers fall the prayers
Of triumph, on blood-red cornelian told;
Of love, that doth its heavenly glow unfold
To light the cross the Lamb-redeeming bears,
The shadow of the prisoned souls to break;
Each prayer enkindled by the touch of love —
The Fire Divine descended from above
True life to give, pale embers to awake;
Each bead a blossom of that marvellous bloom
That filled its Mistress' barren place of rest;
The stony petals, with her dear name blest,
Breathing sweet charity's most rich perfume,
Burning with love of tender soul bent down
To kiss Christ's cross, his Mother's roses-crown.