Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
A Saint’s Hours
Her Matins
I
Her brothers and her sisters small
She woke, and washed and dressed each one.
Prime
And through the morning hours all
Singing above her broom she stood
And swept the house from hall to hall.
Tierce
Then out she ran with tidings good
Across the field and down the lane,
To share them with the neighborhood.
Sexts
Four miles she walked, and home again,
To sit through half the afternoon
And hear a feeble crone complain.
Nones
But when she saw the frosty moon
And lakes of shadow on the hill,
Her maiden dreams grew bright as noon.
Vespers
She threw her pitying apron frill
Over a little trembling mouse
When the sleek cat yawned on the sill.
Evensong
In the late hours and drowsy house,
At last, too tired, beside her bed
She fell asleep—her prayers half said.