 | Mystic Trees |  |
I
Who is this?
Oh, behold the little thing!
Oh, behold the angels clustering
In a circle of supremest wing,
Following her steps, who is so small,
She against the Temple-stones may fall!
Oh, behold the little thing!
Oh, behold the angels clustering
In a circle of supremest wing,
Following her steps, who is so small,
She against the Temple-stones may fall!
Mary's self it is:
To the Temple-Courts she draweth nigh,
Offering
Her three years beneath the sky
To her King;
With the years that by and by
The years will bring;
And the deep Eternity beside,
Ere the hills were cloven wide,
When with God she did abide—
With her now for her remembering,
With her as a lovely guide.
To the Temple-Courts she draweth nigh,
Offering
Her three years beneath the sky
To her King;
With the years that by and by
The years will bring;
And the deep Eternity beside,
Ere the hills were cloven wide,
When with God she did abide—
With her now for her remembering,
With her as a lovely guide.
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