Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/186

Sobs, sighs, that soon to tear-showers led,
As gentle as those tear-showers sweet
That Mary Magdalene shed
Upon her blessed Sav1our's feet;
As precious as the perfume rare
Lazarus' sister with her hair
Long-flowing softly wiped away;
Tear-showers abundant as were thine,
Best loved Apostle called divine,
Before thy hallelujah-day.

Dumb prayers from a heart that throbs!
Holy desires that upward mount!
'What lute shall interpret these sobs
And sighs and tears that none can count!
Who shall the mystery explain
Of this vexed heart that strove in vain
To hush itself, yet had no tone
Articulate? Ah, who shall tell
What winds of autumn in the dell
Among the naked branches moan?

It was an offering with a cry
Like Abraham's—a yearning strong!
It was a struggle last and high
For her whom he had nourished long.
It was a retrospective glance
Upon his past life's vast expanse—
A sinner rescued from the fire!
One cry unto the Judge sublime
That for this victim every crime
Might be effaced, and quenched all ire.