Mother of Christ from stall to Rood,
And wife unto the Holy Ghost:—
Oh! when our need is uttermost,
Think that to such as death may strike
Thou wert a sister, sisterlike!
Thou head-stone of humanity,
Ground-stone of the great mystery,
Fashioned like us, yet more than we!
Mind'st thou not (when June's heavy breath
Warmed the long days in Nazareth)