 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
279
HYMN TO THE VIRGIN.
Mother of the spirit-child!
Of the guileless and the meek
Mournful are thine eyes, but mild
With a beauty from above;
Pale, but eloquent with love,
Thy youthful brow and cheek!
Thou, oh! thou hast known a parent's wasting grief!
A suppliant parent kneels, imploring thy relief!
Of the guileless and the meek
Mournful are thine eyes, but mild
With a beauty from above;
Pale, but eloquent with love,
Thy youthful brow and cheek!
Thou, oh! thou hast known a parent's wasting grief!
A suppliant parent kneels, imploring thy relief!
By the pure and solemn joy
Filling all thy maiden breast,
When the precious heaven-born boy,
Glowing with celestial charms,
Lay within those virgin arms
A bright and wondrous guest!
Hear, in mercy, hear the faltering voice of grief!
A suppliant mother kneels, imploring thy relief!
Filling all thy maiden breast,
When the precious heaven-born boy,
Glowing with celestial charms,
Lay within those virgin arms
A bright and wondrous guest!
Hear, in mercy, hear the faltering voice of grief!
A suppliant mother kneels, imploring thy relief!
280
By thine anguish in that hour,
Hour of wo and dread, when Death
Dared to stay the awful power,
High, majestic, yet benign;
Dared to seal the truths divine
Which dwelt upon his breath!
By thy hope, thy trust, thy rapture, and thy grief,
Oh! sainted Marie! send this breaking heart relief!
Hour of wo and dread, when Death
Dared to stay the awful power,
High, majestic, yet benign;
Dared to seal the truths divine
Which dwelt upon his breath!
By thy hope, thy trust, thy rapture, and thy grief,
Oh! sainted Marie! send this breaking heart relief!
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |