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For 'tis Heaven's will—that, after a disease
Begun and ended within three days' space,
Her Child should die; as Ellen now exclaimed,
Her own—deserted Child!—Once, only once,
She saw it in that mortal malady:
And, on the burial day, could scarcely gain
Permission to attend its obsequies.
She reached the house—last of the funeral train;
And some One, as she entered, having chanced
To urge unthinkingly their prompt departure,
"Nay," said she, with commanding look, a spirit
Of anger never seen in her before,
"Nay ye must wait my time! and down she sate,
And by the unclosed coffin kept her seat
Weeping and looking, looking on and weeping
Upon the last sweet slumber of her Child,
Until at length her soul was satisfied.
You see the Infant's Grave;—and to this Spot,
The Mother, oft as she was sent abroad
And whatsoe'er the errand, urged her steps:
Hither she came; and here she stood, or knelt
In the broad day—a rueful Magdalene!
