"THE DESERT SHALL BLOOM."
141
Behold! they turn to flowers,
And settle in his hair.
All over him in showers;
He hath grown so fair!
Christ in him overpowers
Dull strength of my despair:
While some sweet kindred gathers
To one fair face I love:
Ye divine it, fathers,
Who have a child above!
… Lo! an eyelid fluttered;
I know the bosom heaved!
… Now his own arms have uttered
All I disbelieved!
Dear eyes, long held in durance,
For ever open wide,
To yield my soul assurance
Of all she hath denied!
