THY rosary the flowers shall be, And buds and blossoms be to thee The mystic beads the friar counts. And they shall speak thy heart's delight, Its love and joy by day and night. Then make me thy confessor, dear, And we will spend the summer hours In counting o'er thy beads, the flowers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. CHARLES BLISS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BACKGROUND AND DESIGN by KAREN SWENSON THE PARTY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE MESSAGES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON VERSES TO -- --, ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A CHAIN TO WEAR by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |