Far Horizons

by Bliss Carman


 

THE QUEEN OF THE ANGELS


 

HER church is on the Plaza
Of the old Spanish town,
Where swarthy men and women
In the noon go up and down.

Day long and year long

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The palm-tree shadows fall
With the slow-creeping sunlight
On the yellow plaster wall.

Day long and year long
The weathered doors are wide,

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That the broken may find healing
And the wayworn turn aside.

For the lonely and distraught ones
There is sanctuary here,
There is pity in the stillness,

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And compassion for a tear.

Young lovers find her altar
Where many candles burn,
And breathe their hopes before her
And bare their hearts that yearn.

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They look upon their Lady,
And poor is her attire,
But her eyes are like the lilac
For the pain of their desire.

A heavy dull offender,

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Laden with miseries,
Up the long aisle in penance
Goes meekly on her knees.

No suppliant too lowly,
No sinner too afraid.

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Our Lady of the Angels
Is merciful to aid.

She lifts a hand to bless them,
Forgiving sin and shame;
She is acquaint with sorrow,

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And Mary is her name.