PART II.
Conservabat in Corde.
I.
As every change of April sky
Is imaged in a placid brook,
Her meditative memory
Mirrored His every deed and look.
As suns through summer ether rolled
Mature each growth the spring has wrought,
So Love's strong day-star turned to gold
Her harvests of quiescent thought.
Her soul was as a vase, and shone
Translucent to an inner ray;
Her Maker's finger wrote thereon
A mystic Bible new each day.
Deep Heart! In all His sevenfold might
The Paraclete with thee abode;
And, sacramented there in light,
Bore witness of the things of God.
Ascensio Domini.
II.
Rejoice, O Earth, thy crown is won!
Rejoice, rejoice, ye heavenly host!
And thou, the Mother of the Son,
Rejoice the first; rejoice the most!
Who captive led captivity—
From Hades' void circumference
Who led the Patriarch Band on high,
There rules, and sends us graces thence.
Rejoice, glad Earth, o'er winter's grave
With altars wreathed and clarions blown;
And thou, the Race Redeemed, outbrave
The rites of nature with thine own!
Rejoice, O Mary! thou that long
Didst lean thy breast upon the sword—
Sad nightingale, the Spirit's song
That sang'st all night! He reigns, restored!
Rejoice! He goes, the Paraclete
To send! Rejoice! He reigns on high!
The sword lies broken at thy feet—
His triumph is thy victory!
Ascensio Domini.
III.
I take this reed—I know the hand
That wields it must ere long be dust—
And write, upon the fleeting sand
Each wind can shake, the words, "I trust."
And if that sand one day was stone
And stood in courses near the sky,
For towers by earthquake overthrown,
Or mouldering piecemeal, what care I?
Things earthly perish: life to death
And death to life in turn succeeds.
The spirit never perisheth:
The chrysalis its Psyche breeds.
True life alone is that which soars
To Him who triumphed o'er the grave:
With Him, on life's eternal shores,
I trust one day a part to have.
Ah, hark! above the springing corn
That chime; in every breeze it swells!
Ye bells that wake the Ascension morn,
Ye give us back our Paschal bells!