A MAY CAROL.
"He looked on her humility."
Ah! humbler thrice that breast was made
When Jesus watched his mother's eye,
When God each God-born wish obeyed!
In her with seraph seraph strove,
And each the other's purpose crossed:
And now 'twas reverence, now 'twas love
The peaceful strife that won or lost.
Now to that Infant she extends
Those hands that mutely say, "Mine own!"
Now shrinks abashed, or swerves and bends,
As bends a willow backward blown.
And ofttimes, like a rose leaf caught
By eddying airs from fairyland,
The kiss a sleeping brow that sought
Descends upon the unsceptred hand!
O tenderest awe! whose sweet excess
Had ended in a fond despair,
Had not the all-pitying helplessness
Constrained the boldness of her care!
O holiest strife! the angelic hosts
That watched it hid their dazzled eyes,
And lingered from the heavenly coasts
To bless that heavenlier paradise.
Aubrey de Vere.