Mater Creatoris.

XI.

BUD forth a Saviour, Earth! fulfil
Thy first of functions, ever new!
Balm-dropping heaven, for aye distil
Thy grace like manna or like dew!

“To us, this day, a Child is born."

Heaven knows not mere historic facts: Celestial mysteries, night and morn, Live on in ever-present Acts.

Calvary's dread Victim in the skies

On God's great altar rests even now : The Pentecostal glory lies

For ever round the Church's brow.

From Son and Father, He, the Lord
Of Love and Life, proceeds alway:

Upon the first creative word

Creation, trembling, hangs for aye.

Nor less ineffably renewed

Than when on earth the tie began,

Is that mysterious Motherhood

Which re-creates the worlds and man.

Mater Salvatoris.

XII.

O HEART With His in just accord!
O Soul His echo, tone for tone!
O Spirit that heard, and kept His word!
O Countenance moulded like His own!

Behold, she seemed on Earth to dwell;
But, hid in light, alone she sat
Beneath the Throne ineffable,
Chanting her clear Magnificat.

Fed from the boundless heart of God,
The joy within her rose more high

And all her being overflowed,

Until the awful hour was nigh.

Then, then, there crept her spirit o'er
The shadow of that pain world-wide
Whereof her Son the substance bore:

Him offering, half in Him she died;

Standing like that strange Moon, whereon The mask of Earth lies dim and dead,

An orb of glory, shadow-strewn,

Yet girdled with a luminous thread.

Mater Dolorosa.

XIII.

SHE stood she sank not. Slowly fell Adown the Cross the atoning blood. agony ineffable

In

No

She offered still His own to God.

pang of His her bosom spared;

She felt in Him its several power.
But she in heart His Priesthood shared:
She offered Sacrifice that hour.

"Behold thy Son!" Ah, last bequest! It breathed His last farewell! The sword Predicted pierced that hour her breast.

She stood: she answered not a word.

His own in John He gave. She wore

Thenceforth the Mother-crown of Earth.

O Eve! thy sentence too she bore;

Like thee in sorrow she brought forth.

с

Mater Dolorosa.

XIV.

FROM her He passed: yet still with her
The endless thought of Him found rest;
A sad but sacred branch of myrrh
For ever folded in her breast.

A Boreal winter void of light

So seemed her widowed days forlorn: She slept; but in her breast all night Her heart lay waking till the morn.

Sad flowers on Calvary that grew;

Sad fruits that ripened from the Cross;
These were the only joys she knew:
Yet all but these she counted loss.

Love strong as Death! She lived through thee
That mystic life whose every breath

From Life's low harpstring amorously

Draws out the sweetened name of Death.

Love stronger far than Death or Life!
Thy martyrdom was o'er at last.
Her eyelids drooped; and without strife
To Him she loved her spirit passed.

Mater Admirabilis.

XV.

O MOTHER-MAID! to none save thee
Belongs in full a Parent's name;
So fruitful thy Virginity,

Thy Motherhood so pure from blame!

All other parents, what are they?

Thy types. In them thou stood'st rehearsed, (As they in bird, and bud, and spray). Thine Antitype? The Eternal First!

Prime Parent He: and next Him thou!
O'ershadowed by the Father's Might,

Thy "Fiat" was thy bridal vow;

Thine offspring He, the "Light of Light."

Her Son Thou wert: her Son Thou art,

O Christ! Her substance fed Thy growth:

She shaped Thee in her virgin heart,

Thy Mother and Thy Father both!