Makes widow, who have never been a wife!" Ruth answered, though she did not understand, And kissed her friend in plight of sisterhood. So they two, clad alike from out Ruth's store Of raiment, clad in sad attire alike, As sisters walked together side by side-- Ruth's children with them, grieved, not knowing why-- To where, from Mary's house and Martha's borne, With grievous lamentation, by good men Devout, the flower and choice of Israel, Was laid the sacred dust of Stephen down And sealed within a rock-hewn sepulchre. Joseph of Arimathæa, he who sought And gained from Pilate leave to take away The body of Jesus crucified, had sent To Bethany, betimes, before the hour Of burial, rich spices, a great weight, Aloes and myrrh, with linen pure and fine, To wrap the body of Stephen for his tomb. Mary, the mother of the Lord, with John Beloved of Jesus, loving her as son, Came to that feast of sorrow bringing tears, To Ruth medicinal more than any, wept By one who had so learned to weep. So there With sackcloth worn and ashes on the head, They wailed aloud, that Hebrew company, Women and men, they beat the breast, they rent Their raiment, until one stood forth who said: "Enough already has to grief been given. Us it befits not here, for Stephen dead, To mourn as mourn others who have no hope. He was a burning and a shining light, And we a season in his beams were glad. Glory to God who kindled him for us! Glory to God who hath from us withdrawn His shining, and now hides him in Himself! We thought we could not spare him, but God knew. Let all be as God wills Who knows. Amen!" "Amen!" they solemnly responded all, And he who spake these things went on and said: "The Lord anointed Stephen with the oil Of gladness in the gift of speech above His fellows. How he flamed insufferably, In words that leapt out of his mouth, like swords Out of their sheaths, enkindled to devour The wicked! When he spoke, flew seraphim And bore from off the altar living coals Of God which, laid upon his lips, purged them To utter those pure words that purified. What zeal, what wisdom, what fixed faith, what power! He stood our bulwark, he advanced our sword, And single seemed an insupportable host. Yet this puissant soldier of the truth, To disobedience so implacable, How gentle and how placable he was To all obedience! He was like his Lord, That Lion of the tribe of Judah, named Also the Lamb of God. No words had he Save words of vivid flame, sudden and swift And deadly like the lightning, for God's foes; But for the little flock of Jesus, balm His speech--into those lips such grace was poured!