A MADONNA.
I.
I had a dream, a vision:--I beheld
A Woman such as I had never seen,
Nor yet imagined; and her face was mild,
And fair, and full of grace, and yet serene,
And yet withal so sorrowful. Her hair,
Like threads of midnight, fell adown her breast,
And in her eyes, where dwelt a holy tear,
A silent, unshed grief, there seemed to rest
The weight of all the sorrows of the world.
Her hands, unlike to any mortal hands,
Were clasped upon her bosom, and the white
Of the pure linen that about her bound,
Was not so white as was her bosom's_ _light.
She was a Queen, a saint:--I knelt and cried,
"Benedicite!"
II.
But when she spoke, her voice was musical,
As is the sound of waters in a well,
Or as the whispers of the leaves that fall
In autumn, when the wind doth sadly tell
His tale of winter; and her words were these:--
"My Son hath suffered and hath died for all,
And mine the sorrow is, and mine the grief,
For ever and for evermore shall be.
O Mother, Mother of the great, sad Son,
And Mother too, of all humanity,
Thou art the greatest sorrow that hath been,
The greatest sorrow that shall ever be.
III.
Then as I looked, methought I saw the breast
Of her that held her Son, and in her eyes,
As in a mirror, saw mine own distress,
And all the sins that brought His sacrifice;
And thought of all the sorrows I had known,
And all the pains I had not suffered yet;
And all the joys I had not tasted of.
But never could I find a joy therein,
Nor solace, if my sorrow were forgot.
And as I gazed, my heart began to ache,
And mine eyes filled with tears, and I was fain
To weep for my own sins and for my woe;
For lo! my life was bitter, and my soul
Was filled with darkness, and I longed to die.
IV.
Then said she to me: "Child, I know thy pain;
I know thy sorrow, and thy longing too.
Thy Saviour is thy comfort and thy gain,
And He shall ever be thy comfort true.
Look not to me, but look thou unto Him,
Who died for thee, and for thy sin. My Son,
My only Son, and yet the Son of God,
Hath borne the burden of thy sin and woe.
And when thou findest sorrow hard to bear,
And thinkest that the world is dark and grim,
Lift thine eyes up unto the Cross, and there
Thou shalt find comfort, and shalt cease to weep.
But if thou seekest comfort in mine eyes,
Thou shalt but find the sorrows that I keep,
And find no solace, and no ease from pain."
V.
Then was I comforted, and I was glad,
And I gave thanks to God, and I gave thanks
To her, His Mother, and I went my way
With lighter heart upon that weary day.
I.
I had a dream, a vision:--I beheld
A Woman such as I had never seen,
Nor yet imagined; and her face was mild,
And fair, and full of grace, and yet serene,
And yet withal so sorrowful. Her hair,
Like threads of midnight, fell adown her breast,
And in her eyes, where dwelt a holy tear,
A silent, unshed grief, there seemed to rest
The weight of all the sorrows of the world.
Her hands, unlike to any mortal hands,
Were clasped upon her bosom, and the white
Of the pure linen that about her bound,
Was not so white as was her bosom's_ _light.
She was a Queen, a saint:--I knelt and cried,
"Benedicite!"
II.
But when she spoke, her voice was musical,
As is the sound of waters in a well,
Or as the whispers of the leaves that fall
In autumn, when the wind doth sadly tell
His tale of winter; and her words were these:--
"My Son hath suffered and hath died for all,
And mine the sorrow is, and mine the grief,
For ever and for evermore shall be.
O Mother, Mother of the great, sad Son,
And Mother too, of all humanity,
Thou art the greatest sorrow that hath been,
The greatest sorrow that shall ever be.
III.
Then as I looked, methought I saw the breast
Of her that held her Son, and in her eyes,
As in a mirror, saw mine own distress,
And all the sins that brought His sacrifice;
And thought of all the sorrows I had known,
And all the pains I had not suffered yet;
And all the joys I had not tasted of.
But never could I find a joy therein,
Nor solace, if my sorrow were forgot.
And as I gazed, my heart began to ache,
And mine eyes filled with tears, and I was fain
To weep for my own sins and for my woe;
For lo! my life was bitter, and my soul
Was filled with darkness, and I longed to die.
IV.
Then said she to me: "Child, I know thy pain;
I know thy sorrow, and thy longing too.
Thy Saviour is thy comfort and thy gain,
And He shall ever be thy comfort true.
Look not to me, but look thou unto Him,
Who died for thee, and for thy sin. My Son,
My only Son, and yet the Son of God,
Hath borne the burden of thy sin and woe.
And when thou findest sorrow hard to bear,
And thinkest that the world is dark and grim,
Lift thine eyes up unto the Cross, and there
Thou shalt find comfort, and shalt cease to weep.
But if thou seekest comfort in mine eyes,
Thou shalt but find the sorrows that I keep,
And find no solace, and no ease from pain."
V.
Then was I comforted, and I was glad,
And I gave thanks to God, and I gave thanks
To her, His Mother, and I went my way
With lighter heart upon that weary day.