. Religious poems . trance of bliss, And, gently drawn in loving arms,To swoon to that — from this, — The Other World. 2\ Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, Scarce asking where we are,To feel all evil sink away, All sorrow and all care. Sweet souls around us ! watch us still ; Press nearer to our side;Into our thoughts, into our prayers, With gentle helpings glide. Let death between us be as naught, A dried and vanished stream ;Your joy be the reality, Our suffering life the dream. MARY AT THE CROSS. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother. /^v WONDROUS mother! since the dawn oftime
. Religious poems . trance of bliss, And, gently drawn in loving arms,To swoon to that — from this, — The Other World. 2\ Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, Scarce asking where we are,To feel all evil sink away, All sorrow and all care. Sweet souls around us ! watch us still ; Press nearer to our side;Into our thoughts, into our prayers, With gentle helpings glide. Let death between us be as naught, A dried and vanished stream ;Your joy be the reality, Our suffering life the dream. MARY AT THE CROSS. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother. /^v WONDROUS mother! since the dawn oftime Was ever love, was ever grief, like thine ?O highly favored in thy joys deep flow, And favored, even in this, thy bitterest woe ! Poor was that home in simple Nazareth Where, fairly growing, like some silent flower, Last of a kingly race, unknown and lowly,O desert lily, passed thy childhoods hour. I The world knew not the tender, serious maiden,Who through deep loving years so silent grew, Mary at the Cross. ^3. Full of high thought and holy aspiration, Which the oershaclowing God alone nwht view. And then it came, that message from the highest,Such as to woman neer before descended, The almighty wings thy prayerful soul oerspr^ad,And with thv life the Life of worlds was blended. 24 Mary at the Cross. What visions then of future glory filled thee,The chosen mother of that King unknown, Mother fulfiller of all prophecy Which, through dim ages, wondering seers hadshown ! Well did thy dark eye kindle, thy deep soulRise into billows, and thy heart rejoice ; Then woke the poets fire, the prophets song,Tuned with strange burning words thy timid voice. Then, in dark contrast, came the lowly manger,The outcast shed, the tramp of brutal feet; Again behold earths learned and her lowly,Sages and shepherds, prostrate at thy feet. Then to the temple bearing — hark againWhat strange conflicting tones of prophecy Breathe oer the child foreshadowing words of joy,High triumph blent with
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