Scenes and Hymns of Life, with Other Religious Poems/The Song of the Virgin

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VIII.


THE SONG OF THE VIRGIN.


Yet as a sun-burst flushing mountain snow,
    Fell the celestial touch of fire ere long
On the pale stillness of thy thoughtful brow,
    And thy calm spirit lightened into song.
    Unconsciously perchance, yet free and strong
Flowed the majestic joy of tuneful words,
    Which living harps the quires of Heaven among
Might well have linked with their divinest chords.
Full many a strain, borne far on glory's blast,
Shall leave, where once its haughty music pass'd,
    No more to memory than a reed's faint sigh;
While thine, O childlike virgin! through all time
Shall send its fervent breath o'er every clime,
    Being of God, and therefore not to die.