BROTHER AND SISTER.
Happy those turtle-doves that went, my Queen,
With you to the temple—tho’ to death they went.
Could they have known, they had been full content
To give their little lives. And well I ween
Your pitying hand caressed them; and, between
The turns you took with Joseph (favored saint!)
At carrying Jesus, you would soothe their plaint,
And hold to your heart their bosoms’ silver sheen.
But cherish more my sister-dove and me:
Carry within your heart, and all the way,
Our souls to the true Temple. Offered so,
They cannot perish—no, nor parted be:
For He whom you presented on this day
Whom you present His own must ever know.
Feast of the Purification, 1876.