San Lorenzo's Mother by Alice Meynell

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.