And bore in triumph her much-prized spoils
Of that still, sunny afternoon’s calm talk
And pictured pages of my holy books.
And I a fine-wrought, warm-hued picture kept
That looked from innocent eyes of truthful soul
With child-wise lips and pure, unconscious heart,
Sweet witness bearing to our Mother’s state—
God’s stainless Mother with his glory crowned,
And in his sorrow sharing for our sake.