SAN LORENZO GIUSTINIANI’S MOTHER

I had not seen my son’s dear face (He chose the cloister by God’s grace) Since it had come to full flower-time. I hardly guessed at its perfect prime, That folded flower of his dear face.

Mine eyes were veiled by mists of tears When on a day in many years One of his Order came. I thrilled, Facing, I thought, that face fulfilled. I doubted, for my mists of tears.

His blessing be with me for ever! My hope and doubt were hard to sever. —That altered face, those holy weeds. I filled his wallet and kissed his beads, And lost his echoing feet for ever.

If to my son my alms were given I know not, and I wait for Heaven. He did not plead for child of mine, But for another Child divine, And unto Him it was surely given.

There is One alone who cannot change; Dreams are we, shadows, visions strange; And all I give is given to One. I might mistake my dearest son, But never the Son who cannot change.