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LI.

If sense of Man's unworthiness
With Nature's blameless looks at strife,
Should wake with wakening May, and press
New-born contentment out of life;
If thoughts of breed unblest and blind
Should stamp upon the springing flower,
Or blacker memories haunt the mind
As ravens haunt the ruined tower;
O then how sweet in heart to breathe
Those pure Judean gales once more;
From Bethlehem's crib to Nazareth
In heart to tread that Syrian shore!

97

To watch that star-like Infant bring
To one of soul as clear and white
May-lilies, fresh from Siloa's spring
Or Passion-flower with May-dews bright;
To follow, earlier yet, the feet
Of her the ‘hilly land’ who trod
With true love's haste, intent to greet
That aged saint beloved of God:
Before her like a stream let loose
The long vale's flowerage, winding, ran:
Nature resumed her Eden use;
And Earth was reconciled with Man!