But from thy beauty's garland, brief and vain, When one by one the rose-leaves had been torn, When thy heart's core had quiver'd to the pain Through every life-nerve sent by arrowy scorn; When thou didst kneel to pour sweet odours forth On the Redeemer's feet, with many a sigh, And showering tear-drop, of yet richer worth Than all those costly balms of Araby; Then was there joy, a song of joy in Heaven, For thee, the child won back, the penitent forgiven!

X.

MARY AT THE FEET OF CHRIST.

Oh! blest beyond all daughters of the earth!
What were the Orient's thrones to that low seat,
Where thy hush'd spirit drew celestial birth?
Mary! meek listener at the Saviour's feet!
No feverish cares to that divine retreat
Thy woman's heart of silent worship brought,

But a fresh childhood, heavenly truth to meet, With love, and wonder, and submissive thought. Oh! for the holy quiet of thy breast,

'Midst the world's eager tones and footsteps flying! Thou, whose calm soul was like a well-spring lying So deep and still in its transparent rest, That e'en when noontide burns upon the hills, Some one bright solemn star all its lone mirror fills.

XI.

THE SISTERS OF BETHANY AFTER THE DEATH OF
LAZARUS.

One grief, one faith, O sisters of the dead!

Was in your bosoms-thou, whose steps, made fleet By keen hope fluttering in the heart which bled,

Bore thee, as wings, the Lord of Life to greet;

FEMALE CHARACTERS OF SCRIPTURE.

233

And thou, that duteous in thy still retreat
Didst wait his summons - then with reverent love
Fall weeping at the blest Deliverer's feet,

Whom e'en to heavenly tears thy woe could move,
And which to Him, the All Seeing and All Just,
Was loveliest, that quick zeal, or lowly trust?
Oh! question not, and let no law be given
To those unveilings of its deepest shrine,
By the wrong spirit made in outward sign:
Free service from the heart is all in all to Heaven.

XII.

THE MEMORIAL OF MARY.

"Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her."--Matthew, xxvi. 13.-See also John, xii. 3.

Thou hast thy record in the monarch's hall;
And on the waters of the far mid sea;
And where the mighty mountain-shadows fall,
The Alpine hamlet keeps a thought of thee:
Where'er beneath some Oriental tree,

The Christian traveller rests-where'er the child
Looks upward from the English mother's knee,
With earnest eyes in wondering reverence mild,
There art thou known-where'er the Book of Light
Bears hope and healing, there, beyond all blight,

Is borne thy memory, and all praise above;
Oh! say what deed so lifted thy sweet name,
Mary! to that pure silent place of fame?
One lowly offering of exceeding love.

XIII.

THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM AT THE CROSS.

Like those pale stars of tempest hours, whose gleam Waves calm and constant on the rocking mast, Such by the Cross doth your bright lingering seem, Daughters of Zion! faithful to the last!

Ye, through the darkness o'er the wide earth cast
By the death-cloud within the Saviour's eye,
E'en till away the heavenly spirit pass'd,
Stood in the shadow of his agony.

O blessed faith; a guiding lamp, that hour,
Was lit for woman's heart; to her, whose dower
Is all of love and suffering from her birth;
Still hath your act a voice-through fear, through
strife,

Bidding her bind each tendril of her life, To that which her deep soul hath proved of holiest worth.

XIV.

MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE.

Weeper! to thee how bright a morn was given
After thy long, long vigil of despair,

When that high voice which burial rocks had riven,
Thrill'd with immortal tones the silent air!
Never did clarion's royal blast declare
Such tale of victory to a breathless crowd,
As the deep sweetness of one word could bear
Into thy heart of hearts, O woman! bow'd
By strong affection's anguish!-one low word-
"Mary!"—and all the triumph wrung from death
Was thus reveal'd! and thou, that so hadst err'd,
So wept, and been forgiven, in trembling faith

Didst cast thee down before th' all conquering Son, Awed by the mighty gift thy tears and love had won!

XV.

MARY MAGDALENE BEARING TIDINGS OF THE
RESURRECTION.

Then was a task of glory all thine own,
Nobler than e'er the still small voice assign'd
To lips in awful music making known

The stormy splendours of some prophet's mind. "Christ is arisen!" by thee, to wake mankind, First from the sepulchre those words were brought! Thou wert to send the mighty rushing wind First on its way, with those high tidings fraught"Christ is arisen !"-Thou, thou, the sin enthrall'd, Earth's outcast, Heaven's own ransom'd one, wert call'd

In human hearts to give that rapture birth:

Oh! raised from shame to brightness!-there doth lie The tenderest meaning of His ministry,

Whose undespairing love still own'd the spirit's worth.

THE TWO MONUMENTS.

Oh! blest are they who live and die like "him,”
Loved with such love, and with such sorrow mourn'd!

Wordsworth.

BANNERS hung drooping from on high
In a dim cathedral's nave,

Making a gorgeous canopy

O'er a noble, noble grave!

And a marble warrior's form beneath,
With helm and crest array'd,

As on his battle bed of death,
Lay in their crimson shade.

Triumph yet linger'd in his eye,
Ere by the dark night seal'd,
And his head was pillow'd haughtily
On standard and on shield.

And shadowing that proud trophy pile
With the glory of his wing
An eagle sat;-yet seem'd the while
Panting through Heaven to spring.

He sat upon a shiver'd lance,

There by the sculptor bound;

But in the light of his lifted glance
Was that which scorn'd the ground.