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And evermore shall
life be blest, Though your treasures now are few, Since you gave for your country's good the
MOTHER of Christ long slain, forth glided
she, Following the children joyously astir Under the cedars and the olive-tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her. Each voice an echo of a voice more dear, She saw a little Christ in
every face. When lo! another woman, passing near, Yearned o'er the tender life that filled the
place, And Mary sought the woman's hand, and
said: “I know thee not, yet know thee memory
tossed And what hath led thee here, as I
ledThese bring to thee a child beloved and
“How radiant was my little one! And He was fair,
Yea fairer than the fairest sun,
His sun-bright hair, Still, I can see it shine and shine!” “Even so,” the woman said, “ was mine."
“His ways were ever darling ways,
And Mary smiled, “So soft and clinging! Glad relays Of love were all his precious days —
My little child Was like an infinite that gleamed." “Even so was mine," the woman dreamed.
Then whispered Mary: “Tell me, thou
Of thine!” And she:
To bloom for me!
breast that warms me still.”
Then gazed she down some wilder, darker
hour And said, when Mary questioned knowing
not: 6. Who art thou, mother of so sweet a
flower?” “I am the mother of Iscariot."
HYMN ON THE NATIVITY
It was the winter wild,
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger
Nature, in awe of him,
With her great Master so to sympathize :
Only with speeches fair
The saintly veil of maiden-white to throw; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deform
But he, her fears to cease,