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 am led-- These bring to thee a child beloved and lost. "How radiant was my little one! And He was fair, Yea fairer than the fairest sun, And like its rays through amber spun 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: "Oh, mine was rosy as a bough Blooming with roses, sent, somehow, To bloom for me! His balmy fingers left a thrill Within my breast that warms me still." Then gazed she down some wilder, darker hour And said, when Mary questioned knowing not: "Who art thou, mother of so sweet a flower?" "I am the mother of Iscariot." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESIRE OF NATIONS by EDWIN MARKHAM NAMES by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONNET: 109 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 20. AL-'ALIM by EDWIN ARNOLD THREE PORTRAITS by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |