'T is all she can; she does not fail;
Her holy place is his:
The place within the purple veil
In the great temple is.
But many crosses she must bear,
Straight plans are sideways bent;
Do all she can, things will not wear
The form of her intent.
With idle hands, by Him unsought,
Her sister sits at rest;
'Twere better sure she rose, and wrought
Some service for their guest.
She feels a wrong. The feeling grows,
As other cares invade:
Strong in her right, at last she goes
To claim her sister's aid.
Ah, Martha! one day thou like her,
Or here, or far beyond,
Will sit as still, lest, but to stir,
Should break the charmed bond.
XV.
MARY.
1.
She sitteth at the Master's feet
In motionless employ;
Her ears, her heart, her soul complete
Drinks in the tide of joy.
She is the Earth, and He the Sun;
He shineth forth her leaves;
She, in new life from darkness won,
Gives back what she receives.