Her lovely feet descend the cloudy stair, Great succour bringing to a world forlorn; On either side a man and woman share A common rapture, welcoming the dawn Of God's new day, the everlasting morn-- Of such a day as shall from East to West Dispel the darkness, doing Love's behest. He turns a face all radiant to the Sun, Enamoured of the sight he looks upon; She to the end of what is now begun Downgazes, stooping, shadowed by the throne Made by a Maiden's arms, maternal grown; Than ivory most fair, than purest gold, More pure, more fair, and stronger to uphold. On cherubs twain, whom watching has made wise, A spell has fallen--a prophetic dream; Their upward-gazing and far-seeing eyes, Like stars reflected in a tranquil stream, To look beyond the Child and Mother seem; A twisted thorn-branch and a cross to them Are manifest--His throne and diadem. High heaven open stands, and there a crowd Of worshippers with love-lit eyes appear, Like stars down-gazing through a fleecy cloud, Dimly discerned as morning draweth near Spreading a radiant pall upon night's bier. The blessed thing the Sign doth signify They partly know, and are made glad thereby. But more the Mother knows, and more she sees Than soaring angel or than climbing saint; Her heart familiar grown with mysteries Of God's own working under love's constraint, The remedy she knows for man's complaint. The clouds are all beneath her, and above The light of life, the radiancy of love. And He, Whom Lord of love and life we hail, Is on her bosom borne, a blossom fair; The pentecostal breath that lifts her veil Has fanned His royal brow, and stirred His hair, And kissed His lips just parted for a prayer. That spirit-wind shall blow, that Face shall shine, Till all His brothers know their Father's Sign. DRESDEN: 1883. FOOTNOTES: [1] _See_ Note A, page 69. _BETHLEHEM GATE._ A PICTURE BY DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI.[2] Of old through gates that closed on them Two exiles went with eyes downcast; The Present now retrieves the Past, God's Eden is in Bethlehem. An Eden that no walls enclose By Mary's arms encompassed, A living shrine, a 'house of bread,' A very haven of repose. Behold the Prince of Peace! around His cradle angry tempests rage; He needs must go on pilgrimage, An exile, homeless and discrowned. And yet, His Rank to designate, The unquenched Star of Bethlehem Shines forth, a radiant diadem; While Angels on His footsteps wait. E'en now the Father's Face they see, A triumph-song e'en now they sing, And, wondering and worshipping, Attend His Pilgrim-Family. Two guard the frowning gateway: one Is of a solemn countenance; To him a rapid backward glance Reveals a massacre begun.