A dream came to me while the night Thinned off before the breath of morn, Which filled my soul with such delight As hers who clasps a babe new-born. I saw--in countenance like a child-- (Three years methought were hers, no more) That maid and mother undefiled The Saviour of the world who bore. A nun-like veil was o'er her thrown; Her locks by fillet-bands made fast, Swiftly she climbed the steps of stone;-- Into the Temple swiftly passed. Not once she paused her breath to take; Not once cast back a homeward look:-- As longs the hart his thirst to slake, When noontide rages, in the brook, So longed that child to live for God; So pined, from earth's enthralments free, To bathe her wholly in the flood Of God's abysmal purity! Anna and Joachim from far Their eyes on that white vision raised: And when, like caverned foam or star Cloud-hid, she vanished, still they gazed. {34} _Fest. Purificationis._ XXVIII. Twelve years had passed, and, still a child, In brightness of the unblemished face, Once more she scaled those steps, and smiled On Him who slept in her embrace. As in she passed there fell a calm Around: each bosom slowly rose Like the long branches of the palm When under them the south wind blows. The scribe forgot his wordy lore; The chanted psalm was heard far off; Hushed was the clash of golden ore; And hushed the Sadducean scoff. Type of the Christian Church! 'twas thine To offer, first, to God that hour, Thy Son--the Sacrifice Divine, The Church's everlasting dower! Great Priestess! round that aureoled brow Which cloud or shadow ne'er had crossed, Began there not that hour to grow A milder dawn of Pentecost? {35} _Fest. Epiphaniae._ XXIX. A veil is on the face of Truth: She prophesies behind a cloud; She ministers, in robes of ruth, Nocturnal rites, and disallowed. Eleusis hints, but dares not speak; The Orphic minstrelsies are dumb; Lost are the Sibyl's books, and weak Earth's olden faith in Him to come. But ah, but ah, that Orient Star! On straw-roofed shed and large-eyed kine It flashes, guiding from afar The Magians to the Child Divine. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh they bring-- Love, Worship, Life severe and hard: Well pleased the symbol gifts the King Accepts; and Truth is their reward. Rejoice, O Sion, for thy night Is past: the Lord, thy Light, is born. The Gentiles shall behold thy light; The kings walk forward in thy morn. {36} XXX. The sunless day is sweeter yet Than when the golden sun-showers danced On bower new-glazed or rivulet; And Spring her banners first advanced. By wind unshaken hang in dream The wind-flowers o'er their dark green lair; And those thin poppy cups that seem Not bodied forms, but woven of air.