O saints, dcar saints, so present, yet so far, I eannot touch yon with my hand or trace The aspect of your strength, your faith, your grace ! B&tweei ua lic the yeara, the gulf, the bar; But, aa one tracks the starlight.to the star And flnds no dark nor ñame forsaken space To fret the beauty of its burning face Eeeause the splendor swallows blot and scar, So time lias í'ramrd you with an aureole llore circlti rounded than your age foreknew. No frailty now can quench that lire of soul! The things ve willed and did not, thoso y e do; The gifts hp strove for, in my sight are true. ïour perfect parts have made perfection whole.