The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to me; I count them over, every one apart, My rosary.
Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, To still a heart in absence wrung; I tell each bead unto the end — and there A cross is hung.
Oh, memories that bless — and burn! Oh, barren gain — and bitter loss! I kiss each bead, and strive at last to learn To kiss the cross, Sweetheart, To kiss the cross.