Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/298

272  steals with silent wings
 * On lower and town,

The darkness creeps and clings
 * By dale and down,

The stars shine manifold
 * In Heaven above;

The world is grey and cold—
 * Give me thy love,
 * Mater amabilis
 * Ora pro me!

My heart is dark within
 * With fear and shame;

What respite may I win
 * From my self-blame?

I dare not lift mine eyes
 * To thy pure face—

O Mother, kind and wise,
 * Give me thy grace,
 * Mater castissima
 * Ora pro me!

One silver lamp burns low
 * Before thy feet,

Dim shadows come and go,
 * Vague murmurs fleet—