The Days of a Man 1891 



SANTA CLARA VIRGEN Y MARTIR 



Now that the throng has left me, 

 I softly close my eyes, 



And one by one before me 

 The fairest visions rise, 



The best that Life can give me 

 Of all Life signifies. 



I see a sunlit valley 



Between two mountain chains, 

 Where roses bloom and lilies 



Along the grassy lanes 

 Aflame with golden poppies 



And wet with fragrant rains. 



I see from purple mountains 

 The lengthening shadows creep, 



Touching the lanes of poppies, 

 Closing their eyes in sleep; 



And Earth's uneasy clamor 

 Is hushed in silence deep. 



Again, through sprays of jasmine, 

 A woman's face I see; 



I care not what her beauty 

 Or her attractions be 



There may be many fairer 

 But none so fair to me. 



Again, a gentle lady 



Who lived in other days, 



A virgin and a martyr 

 So the old legend says 



Who in her name enfoldeth 

 Delicious destinies. 



O blessed Santa Clara! 

 Her spell be over thee, 



c 388 a 



