Back Aa

Heart Songs

<h2>As it Began to Dawn</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> A coward heart I carry in my breast, Think you the soldiers stern will let us put These spices that we carry, in his grave, Or will they drive us hence? See how I start If but the breeze shakes on my head, From limb or vine, the heavy drops of dew— Art weary Mary, weary and afraid? </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> Nay, but so heavy-hearted, and so lost To hope, so full of horrors was that day, So full of grief, the mem’ry of it all Will weigh upon me till my life is done. And if I close my eyes, I see in dreams His arms stretched out upon that cross so wide, His head, His kingly head, crowned with the thorns. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> Hush, Mary, Or I drop upon the ground in weakness. My friend! my tender, and my faithful friend! When down thy forehead crept those crimson drops The agony was more than I could bear. ’Tis said that Peter and the rest did sleep,{62} Did sleep and take their rest that last night in Gethsemane, leaving Him there to keep His watch alone. O, poverty of love! Think, Mary, had we heard that sobbing prayer Could we have slept and our Lord sorrowful? </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> Nay, we would but have had one thought, to share His grief, to comfort and to cheer, But man Is dull at conning tasks of tenderness, He is well qualified to guard with sword, But not to keep long watches in the night; His, is the strength to fight, ours, is the strength To wait, and waiting, hold our faith In love. They loved Him well, but being men they slept. A loneliness Grows on me as the dawn Lights hill and valley, and the fertile plain. His feet have pressed the paths, oft has He gone Down this way to the gate, oft has He sought The stillness, and the quiet of that mount Lifting its head to heaven—Mount Olivet— And always will there be on Calvary The heavy shadow of a cross of wood, And if a hardy flower blossomed there, Blood red its hue would be.{63} </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> Surely it shuddered as it felt His weight, That heavy cross on which He hung till eve! How could they plunge the spear into His side, And mock at Him with all their cruel tongues? O, Mary, When I think of His dear hands That ever held out succor to the lost,— That ever touched to heal the sons of men,— That ever took the burden and the pain From heavy hearts—His strong and tender hands That lifted up the fallen and the weak, That dwelt in blessing on the little ones, That broke the bread to feed a multitude,— Wounded and hurt, the sharp nails through each palm, My heart, it breaks with pity and with woe! </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> I wonder if he saw us standing there, So weak, and helpless, and so buffeted. One soldier pulled the covering from my head, Another scoffed, ‘O woman ye are fools!’ And yet another, ‘Look now at your King!’ I cared not, nay, was glad to feel that we Shared in his trial, feared not their contempt,{64} I hope He saw us, that He understood That love and faith were one with such as we. When He cried out, I thought upon a day When He did come to rest Himself with us, The harvest fields were yellow, and the sun Beat down so fiercely that it hurt the head Of Ruth’s fair little one. ‘The pain!’ he cried, ‘The pain! the pain!!’ with hot tears on his cheek, And Ruth did lift him up and run with him To where the Master was, who pushed the curls Back with His hands and touched the forehead white, The crying ceased, the quiver left the eyes, The pallor crept away from off the cheek— He fell asleep, a smiling, healthy child. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> And I thought of a day when He did meet A woman, in her youth, but lost to all The joys of innocence. Love she had known, Such love as leaves the life filled full of shame, Passion was hers, hate and impurity, The gnawing of remorse, the longing vain To lose the mark of sin, the scarlet flush Of fallen womanhood, the hatred of{65} The spotless, the desire that they might sink Low in the mire as she. O, what a soul She carried on that day! The women drew Their robes back from her touch, men leered, And little children seemed afraid to meet The devilish beauty of her form and face. Shunned and alone, Till One came to her side, And took her hand in His, and what He said Is past the telling; there are things the soul Knows well, but cannot blazon to the world. And when He went His way, upon her brow Where shame had lain, set the sweet word, Forgiveness. And Mary Magdalene Did follow Him, led by a wondrous love, Did wash His tender feet with grateful tears, And wipe them with the soft hairs of her head. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> Joseph of Arimathea laid his form In a new tomb. I tremble as we come So near! and tell me, do you note a light, Fairer than dawn, is cast on all things here. Behold! one sits upon the stone, robed all In white, a wondrous radiance on His face, I fear and am perplexed. Let us go back.{66} </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> Nay, we must put these spices in His grave— My fears have gone and left me strong and bold, Let us advance and question him, for he Is some good angel keeping watch and ward, It may be he has caused the heavy stone To roll away that we might enter in With love’s last offering. What doth he say? </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> He says that Jesus is alive to-day, And bids us come and see the empty grave, O, what a joy, if this were only true! But, ’tis too great a mystery. Come hence, Someone hath borne away our Lord, To wrest from us the sorrowful delight Of looking on His face, dead, with the lines Of mortal agony on brow and lips, Oh, Mary Magdalene, the world’s strong hate Might well have spared us this last cruel blow! </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> But it may be The angel tells us true, And that He has arisen from the grave, And is alive to love and keep His own— O, blessed hope! which all my being yearns{67} To grasp and hold—for if He is alive, It means that you, and I, and all that love And hold their faith in Him, can never die. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> I never understood what He did mean By Life Eternal. So many things I had Hid in my heart to ask Him. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> Look how the sunshine sweeps down on the world! There never was a yesterday so fair, Something within me answers to the glow— And answers to the glad songs of the birds— And something seems to call out sweet and clear The night is gone—is gone! the night is gone!! </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> I am amazed! the tears have quickly dried upon your cheek. I thought your grief was strong, Too strong to lose itself in Nature’s smile, The dazzling sunlight, and the song of birds, The fair—— </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> Hush! ’tis our Lord himself who comes this way, The wounds made by the thorns still on His brow, His hands and feet marked with the cruel nails.{68} </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> It is the Master and my fears are gone— O, hark! He speaks. How often have we heard That voice so filled with peace and tenderness? Dear Lord, we fall and worship at Thy feet. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> O risen Son of God! Give me one hand pierced on the cross for me, That I may place it on my heart and say, For my transgression was He wounded sore, Bruised, shamed, and hurt for my iniquity. </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY. </div> <div class="stanza"> We walked, O Master, in a maze of doubt, Misgiving, grief, and great perplexity, Knowing not where to turn, what to believe, Then, through the tumult did we hear Thee say, ‘All Hail!’ O, words of cheer! O, greeting, glad! </div> <div class="stanza"> MARY MAGDALENE. </div> <div class="stanza"> These words shall be a song—a song of joy For a sad world to sing, a glorious song Of triumph, and immortality, The glad notes shall ring clearly up to heaven, And echo down through hell. All Hail! The Son of God Hath left the grave and given us Life, All Hail! </div> </div></div> {69} <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.