To our Lady's Mantle by James Inglis

Our Lady’s Mantle !⠀

When I musing stray In leafy June along the mossy sward,⠀

No flower that blooms more fixes my regard⠀

Than thy green leaf, though simple its array;⠀

For thou to me art as some minstrel’s lay,⠀

Depicting manners of the olden time,⠀

When on Inch Cailliach’s isle the convent chime⠀

Summoned to Vespers at the close of day.⠀

Tis pleasant ‘mid the never-ending strife⠀

Of this too busy, mammon-loving age,⠀

When Nature’s gentler charms so few engage,⠀

To muse at leisure on the quiet life⠀

Of earlier days, when every humble flower⠀

Was known to all, and cherished as a dower.⠀