'Nurse, let me draw the baby's veil aside,

I want to see the Cross upon her brow.'

Nay, maiden dear, that seal may not abide

In sight of mortals' ken; 'tis vanish'd now.

'Alas, for pity! when the holy man

Said even now, I sign thee with the cross,

What joy to think that I at home should scan

The bright, clear lines! O, sad and sudden loss!'

--Complain not so, my child: no loss is here,

But endless gain. If thou wilt open wide

Faith's inward eye, soon shall to thee appear

What now by wondering angels is descried,

Thy LORD's true token, seen not, but believed,

And therefore doubly blest. O, mark it well;

And be this rule in thy young heart received--

Blest, who content with Him in twilight dwell.

Thy saints, O LORD, and Thine own Mother dear

Are round Thee as a glory-cloud: we see

The general glow, not each in outline clear,

Or several station: all are hid in Thee.

In prayer we own Thee, Father, at our side,

Not always feel or taste Thee; and 'tis well.

So, hour by hour, courageous faith is tried;

So, gladlier will the morn all mists dispel.