VII.
“Jesus saith unto her, Mary She turned herself and saith unto Him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master.”
A moment since, a sepulchre
Was all the world she cared to own,
An empty tomb, vain balms and myrrh,
Tears with no heart to shed them on.
And now the living Lord was there,
Immortal, glorious, yet the same;
The voice the fiends once fled in fear
Now spoke the old familiar name.
No language could that bliss have told,
She had no words the joy to greet;
She said but “Master!” as of old,
And rested silent at His feet.
Yet all heaven's choirs could scarcely twine
A music more profound and sweet
Than when, as from His heart to thine,
Thus “Mary!” and “Rabboni!” meet.
