THE GIFT OF GRAPES.
203
At every hermit's feet they laid
The tempting grapes, in vain, nor stayed
The tempting grapes, in vain, nor stayed
Till, at the desert's utmost bound,
Macarius's cell they joyful found,—
Macarius's cell they joyful found,—
Macarius, oldest, holiest saint
Of all the desert. Weary, faint,
Of all the desert. Weary, faint,
They knelt before him. "Father, see
These grapes they must be meant for thee!
These grapes they must be meant for thee!
"These many days we bear them now;
And yet they do not withered grow.
And yet they do not withered grow.
"No brother will so much as taste.
'T was Isidore who bade us haste
'T was Isidore who bade us haste
"To find the man to whom God sent
The luscious gift. They must be meant
The luscious gift. They must be meant
"For thee. Thou art the last." "Ay," said
The good Macarius, flushing red
The good Macarius, flushing red
With holy joy, "Ay; meant for me,
As token of the constancy
As token of the constancy
"Of all our brothers! Blessed day
Is this, my brothers! Go your way!
Is this, my brothers! Go your way!
"Christ fill your souls with lasting peace!
The time is near of my release."
The time is near of my release."
