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THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN TO HER LITTLE
MARY.
TO A POSTULANT NAMED MARY.
Could I some childlike spirit see, Resembling Christ, my little Child, Then she with Him should cradled be Upon my bosom undefiled. |
Angelic spirits, hovering near, Would envy such celestial bliss; Yet Thee I chose, so come then, dear! My Child awaits thy timid kiss. |
Oh, Jesus’ sister thou shalt be, — I choose thee for “this better part.” Wilt gladly bear Him company? Then shalt thou rest upon my heart. |
And I will shield thee ‘neath my veil, Near Bethlehem’s Babe so fair and bright. Oh, thou shalt think the stars are pale, Compared with this divine delight. |
But would’st forever stay with me, And with this Christ-Child, in my care? Then thou all fitly dressed must be In childhood’s graces heavenly fair. |
Upon thy brow mine eyes must trace Thy light of purity divine; Simplicity’s most tender grace Through all things in thy life must shine. |
God, Three in One, and One in Three, By angels tremblingly adored, Asks gently to be called by thee “Flower of the Fields,” that simple word. |
As fair white daisies lift their face With steadfast meekness to the skies, So thou must look with kindred grace Within the Christ-Child’s holy eyes. |
To worldly men no charm appears In this meek King Who wears no crown. Thou oft shalt see the burning tears From Jesus’ eyes fail swiftly down. |
Then thine own pains thou must forget, To calm and soothe our Blessed One; Then thou must prize the vows that set Thy place so close to Him alone. |
Our God, Whose mighty power controls Fury of flood and force of flame, Now lieth low, to save men’s souls, A Child enclothed in our shame. |
The Word, the Father’s Word on high, My little Lamb, thy Brother dear, Now speaks no word, He breathes no sigh; Silent and dumb He lieth here. |
That silence forms the mystic sign Of love beyond all utterance deep; Its meaning thou must well divine And day by day like silence keep. |
And if, at times, His eyelids close, Rest then near Him in perfect peace; His Sacred Heart no slumber knows, His love for thee shall never cease. |
Nor think, dear Mary, anxiously, About the task of every day; To love thy blessed work shall be, Its holy crown be thine for aye. |
Lo! if some voice reproaches thee Because no great things thou hast done, Oh, make this answer steadfastly: “But I Ioved much!” So heaven is won. |
Our Lord Himself thy crown shall weave; And if thou seek His love alone, If all for Him thou gladly leave, Near His for aye shall be thy throne. |
When life’s long vigil is all past, Heav’n’s dawn shall break in joy for thee; And face to face, at last, at last, The Vision of God shall welcome thee! |
CHRISTMAS, 1894
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