Attend her, holy Angels! Guard her, ye Cherubim! For whatsoe’er she does for these She does it as to Him!
DAYBREAK
AN EASTER POEM
Mary Magdalenè, At the break of day, Wan with tears and watching Hasted on her way;
Bearing costly spices, Myrrh, and sweet perfume, Through the shadowy garden To the Master’s tomb.
Slowly broke the gray dawn: On her head the breeze Shook a rain of dew-drops From the cypress-trees.
Rose and lily parted As to let her pass, And the violets blessed her From the tender grass.
Little heed she paid them; Christ, the Lord, was dead; All at last was over, All at last was said.
What of hope remainèd? Black against the sky, Calvary’s awful crosses Stretched their arms on high!
Mary Magdalenè Made her bitter moan: “From the sealèd sepulchre Who shall roll the stone?”
Swift she ran, her spirit Filled with awe and fear; Wide the door stood open As her feet drew near!