The Window Seat

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

At morn, at noon, at twilight dim,
Maria, thou hast heard my hymn;
In joy and woe, in good and ill,
Mother of God be with me still,
When the hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee.
Now, when storms of fate o'ercast
Darkly my present and my past,
Let my future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine.

Monday's Joyful Mysteries