A spirit who hears me tapping
The five-sensed cane of mind
Amid such unguessed glories—
That I—am worse than blind!
Harry Kemp
HERB OF GRACE
I do not know what sings in me—
I only know it sings
When pale the stars, and every tree
Is glad with waking wings.
I only know the air is sweet
With wondrous flowers unseen—
That unaccountably complete
Is June's accustomed green.
The wind has magic in its touch;
Strange dreams the sunsets give.
Life I have questioned overmuch—
To-day, I live.
Amelia Josephine Burr
BEFORE MARY OF MAGDALA CAME
Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre.... The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early ... unto the sepulchre.... And ... she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing.... Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him ... Master. St. John.