XXVII.

A dream came to me while the night Thinned off before the breath of morn, Which filled my soul with such delight As hers who clasps a babe new-born.

I saw—in countenance like a child— (Three years methought were hers, no more) That maid and mother undefiled The Saviour of the world who bore.

A nun-like veil was o'er her thrown; Her locks by fillet-bands made fast, Swiftly she climbed the steps of stone;— Into the Temple swiftly passed.

Not once she paused her breath to take; Not once cast back a homeward look:— As longs the hart his thirst to slake, When noontide rages, in the brook,

So longed that child to live for God; So pined, from earth's enthralments free, To bathe her wholly in the flood Of God's abysmal purity!

Anna and Joachim from far Their eyes on that white vision raised: And when, like caverned foam or star Cloud-hid, she vanished, still they gazed.