The snows shall perish at the spring, The flowers pour fragrance round her feet: Ah, Jesus! Mary! Joseph! bring This mercy from the Mercy Seat! Send it, sweet King of Glory, born Humbly on Christmas Morn! TO MY PATRONS BY LIONEL JOHNSON Thy spear rent Christ, when dead for me He lay: My sin rends Christ, though never one save He Perfectly loves me, comforts me. Then pray, Longinus Saint! the Crucified, for me. Hard is the holy war, and hard the way: At rest with ancient victors would I be. O faith’s first glory from our England! pray, St. Alban! to the Lord of Hosts, for me. Fain would I watch with thee, till morning gray, Beneath the stars austere: so might I see Sunrise, and light, and joy, at last. Then pray, John Baptist Saint! unto the Christ, for me. Remembering God’s coronation day; Thorns for His crown; His throne, a Cross: to thee Heaven’s kingdom dearer was than earth’s. Then pray Saint Louis! to the King of kings, for me. Thy love loved all things: thy love knew no stay, But drew the very wild beasts round thy knee. O lover of the least and lowest! pray, Saint Francis! to the Son of Man, for me. Bishop of souls in servitude astray, Who didst for holy service set them free: Use still thy discipline of love, and pray. Saint Charles! unto the world’s High Priest, for me. OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS (Upon reading the poem of that name in the Underwoods of Mr. Stevenson) BY LIONEL JOHNSON