night-watches will we ponder his words: in the temple we will look on those whom he hath healed and taught: and beneath the palms will we sit and gaze upon his sepulchre.”
“In the temple will I appear no more, lest I hear him in whom I have gloried scoffed at, and his cross derided. Here will I sit in darkness, till death shall hide me. Yet here my sorrow is greater than I can bear.”
So spake Mary, the mother of Jesus, as she lay on a couch in an inner apartment, where none came unto her but John, who was as her son. She hid her face in her robe as she spake, for unto none could she lift up those eyes which were swollen with weeping; and not even John might behold in her face her struggles with despair. Until now, no word had passed her lips since the hour when she left the foot of the cross. The sabbath had passed, and she knew it not; and now, when the first day of the week had dawned, her eyes were yet sleepless, and her troubled spirit found no peace. Yet he who sat at her feet was cheered because her grief found words, and he trusted that the hour of rest was at hand.
