My bride away at work, I walked -- alas alone -- down to the lake.
Lo, many were the couples with strollers there.
So that the Grace of the day was made plain,
and as I circumambulated clockwise,
met many a mother coming widdershins:
and did doff, and slightly bow,
uttering the blessing appropriate to the day.
Their own babes yet too mute to voice their Ave,
‘tis meet that we as well give tongue
to the grateful reverence of this peopled planet,
that the great race of Man (fashioned by His hand)
should not dwindle and wink out.
Ave, Mater, Ave.
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