Fest. Nativitatis B. V. M.

XXV.

WHEN thou wert born the murmuring world
Rolled on, nor dreamed of things to be,

From joy to sorrow madly whirled ;-
Despair disguised in revelry.

A princess thou of David's line;

The mother of the Prince of Peace; That hour no royal pomps were thine: The earth alone her boon increase

Before thee poured. September rolled
Down all the vine-clad Syrian slopes
Her breadths of purple and of gold;
And birds sang loud from olive tops.

Perhaps old foes, they knew not why,
Relented. From a fount long sealed

Tears rose, perhaps, to Pity's eye:
Love-harvests crowned the barren field.

3

The respirations of the year,

At least, grew soft. O'er valleys wide Pine-roughened crags again shone clear; And the great Temple, far descried,

To watchers, watching long in vain,
To patriots grey, in bondage nursed,
Flashed back their hope-"The Second Fane
In glory shall surpass the First!"

XXVI.

THE moon, ascending o'er a mass
Of tangled yew and sable pine,
What sees she in yon watery glass?
A tearful countenance divine.

Far down, the winding hills between,
A sea of vapour bends for miles,
Unmoving. Here and there, dim-seen,
The knolls above it rise like isles.

The tall rock glimmers, spectre-white;
The cedar in its sleep is stirred;
At times the bat divides the night;
At times the far-off flood is heard.

Above, that shining blue!-below,

.

That shining mist! O, not more pure Midwinter's landscape, robed in snow, And fringed with frosty garniture.

The fragrance of the advancing year
That, that assures us it is May.
Ah, tell me! in the heavenlier sphere

Must all of earth have passed away ?

XXVII.

A DREAM came to me while the night
Thinned off before the breath of morn,
Which filled my soul with such delight
As hers who clasps a babe new-born.

I saw-in countenance like a child

(Three years methought were hers, no more) That maid and mother undefiled

The Saviour of the world who bore.

A nun-like veil was o'er her thrown;
Her locks by fillet-bands made fast,
Swiftly she climbed the steps of stone;
Into the Temple swiftly passed.

Not once she paused her breath to take ;
Not once cast back a homeward look:
As longs the hart his thirst to slake,
When noontide rages, in the brook,

So longed that child to live for God;

So pined, from earth's enthralments free,

To bathe her wholly in the flood
Of God's abysmal purity!

Anna and Joachim from far

Their eyes on that white vision raised:

And when, like caverned foam or star Cloud-hid, she vanished, still they gazed.

D

Fest. Purificationis.

XXVIII.

TWELVE years had passed, and, still a child,`
In brightness of the unblemished face,
Once more she scaled those steps, and smiled
On Him who slept in her embrace.

As in she passed there fell a calm
Around: each bosom slowly rose

Like the long branches of the palm
When under them the south wind blows.

The scribe forgot his wordy lore;

The chanted psalm was heard far off; Hushed was the clash of golden ore; And hushed the Sadducean scoff.

Type of the Christian Church! 'twas thine To offer, first, to God that hour,

Thy Son-the Sacrifice Divine,

The Church's everlasting dower!

Great Priestess! round that aureoled brow Which cloud or shadow ne'er had crossed, Began there not that hour to grow

A milder dawn of Pentecost?