Youthful, but brightly solemn! Woman’s cheek
And brow were there, in deep devotion meek,
Yet glorified, with inspiration’s trace
On its pure paleness; while, enthroned above,
The pictured Virgin, with her smile of love,
Seem’d bending o’er her votaress. That slight form!
Was that the leader through the battle-storm?
Had the soft light in that adoring eye
Guided the warrior where the swords flash’d high?
’Twas so, even so!—and thou, the shepherd’s child,