They crucified Him on Calvary, Upon an April day; And because He had been her little Son She followed Him all the way. Our Lady stood beside the Cross, A little space apart, And when She heard Our Lord cry out A sword went through Her Heart. They laid Our Lord in a marble tomb, Dead, in a winding sheet. But Our Lady stands above the world With the white Moon at Her feet. IN A BOAT Lady! Lady! Upon Heaven-height, Above the harsh morning In the mere light. Above the spindrift And above the snow, Where no seas tumble, And no winds blow. The twisting tides, And the perilous sands Upon all sides Are in your holy hands. The wind harries And the cold kills; But I see your chapel Over far hills. My body is frozen, My soul is afraid: Stretch out your hands to me, Mother and maid. Mother of Christ, And Mother of me, Save me alive From the howl of the sea. If you will Mother me Till I grow old, I will hang in your chapel A ship of pure gold. COURTESY Of Courtesy, it is much less Than Courage of Heart or Holiness, Yet in my Walks it seems to me That the Grace of God is in Courtesy. On Monks I did in Storrington fall, They took me straight into their Hall; I saw Three Pictures on a wall, And Courtesy was in them all. The first the Annunciation; The second the Visitation; The third the Consolation, Of God that was Our Lady’s Son. The first was of Saint Gabriel; On Wings a-flame from Heaven he fell; And as he went upon one knee He shone with Heavenly Courtesy. Our Lady out of Nazareth rode-- It was Her month of heavy load; Yet was Her face both great and kind, For Courtesy was in Her Mind. The third it was our Little Lord, Whom all the Kings in arms adored; He was so small you could not see His large intent of Courtesy. Our Lord, that was Our Lady’s Son, Go bless you, People, one by one; My Rhyme is written, my work is done. THE NIGHT Most holy Night, that still dost keep The keys of all the doors of sleep, To me when my tired eyelids close Give thou repose. And let the far lament of them That chaunt the dead day’s requiem Make in my ears, who wakeful lie, Soft lullaby. Let them that guard the horned moon By my bedside their memories croon. So shall I have new dreams and blest In my brief rest. Fold your great wings about my face, Hide dawning from my resting-place, And cheat me with your false delight, Most Holy Night. THE LEADER The sword fell down: I heard a knell; I thought that ease was best, And sullen men that buy and sell Were host: and I was guest. All unashamed I sat with swine, We shook the dice for war, The night was drunk with an evil wine-- But she went on before.