Lilliput Lectures By the author of "Lilliput Levee" [i.e. W. B. Rands] |
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[Now, mother, a sweet strong kiss] |
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[Now, mother, a sweet strong kiss]
Now, mother, a sweet strong kiss
That will go to the heart very straight!
But tell me, mother, who is this,
That cometh from the door of heaven,
With beautiful garments, from the gate,
This that is glorious in her apparel,
Travelling in the greatness of her strength?
That will go to the heart very straight!
But tell me, mother, who is this,
That cometh from the door of heaven,
With beautiful garments, from the gate,
This that is glorious in her apparel,
Travelling in the greatness of her strength?
As the strength of seventy times seven
Is her strength, and endless the story
Of those she hath vanquished in quarrel:
For the lands are full of her glory.
Her glory hath gone all abroad.
Is her strength, and endless the story
Of those she hath vanquished in quarrel:
For the lands are full of her glory.
Her glory hath gone all abroad.
For this is the Daughter of God;
Men call her sweet Charity,
And gentle and sweet is she;
As the heart of a rose is her heart,
As soft, and as fair, and as sweet:
The words of her lips, when they part,
Are blessèd: the fall of her feet
Is kindly as bells when they beat
With joy over wedded true lovers.
Men call her sweet Charity,
And gentle and sweet is she;
As the heart of a rose is her heart,
As soft, and as fair, and as sweet:
The words of her lips, when they part,
Are blessèd: the fall of her feet
Is kindly as bells when they beat
With joy over wedded true lovers.
Yea, Daughter of God. She discovers
The ache, and the sin, where it lies,
The hunger, the anger, the hate,
The madness, the wound, and the want;—
She comes, ere it yet be too late.
Say, what will ye hide from her eyes?
She shall see from afar and arise!
She will come with the cup from the font,
And the hand that shall heal; and her breath
Shall be as the breath of the skies;
And down the dusk valley of death,
Where the perishing wanders and cries,
Her garments shall shine, as she saith,
‘Behold!’ when he thinks that he dies.
The ache, and the sin, where it lies,
The hunger, the anger, the hate,
The madness, the wound, and the want;—
She comes, ere it yet be too late.
Say, what will ye hide from her eyes?
She shall see from afar and arise!
She will come with the cup from the font,
And the hand that shall heal; and her breath
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And down the dusk valley of death,
Where the perishing wanders and cries,
Her garments shall shine, as she saith,
‘Behold!’ when he thinks that he dies.
Nay, the perishing shall not die yet;
He shall see of the glory of God,
Because that her fair feet are set
(Her feet shall be swift on the road)
To seek him, and show him the glory.
Go to, will ye tell me her story?—
In the face of the Lord, where the gold
Of the high-columned heaven is uplit,
Her story at last shall be told—
I will wait, for the end is not yet.
He shall see of the glory of God,
Because that her fair feet are set
(Her feet shall be swift on the road)
To seek him, and show him the glory.
Go to, will ye tell me her story?—
In the face of the Lord, where the gold
Of the high-columned heaven is uplit,
Her story at last shall be told—
I will wait, for the end is not yet.
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