Poem September 20, 1924 Issue

"And he delivered him to his mother"

EVELYN L. WEBB

O mother , weeping
On thy lonely way
In sad procession,
Lift up now thy head;
For lo, the Christ speaks
Words of tenderness,
And bids the concourse halt
Its mournful path.
Then with command
The chains of death are loosed,—
And Love divine
Brings back thy dear one.
See! He lives!
O suffering heart,
Where'er thou mayest be,
In thy grief lonely,
Remember this:
The dear and loving Christ,
Who spake in Jesus' time,
Stands ever close to thee
To stop the sad procession of thy thoughts;
And where fond hope lies dead,
Love will restore
All thou seem'st to have lost.
Nay more;
For in that Love ineffable,
So wondrous is the loveliness,
So far beyond thy highest dream,
How could that dear Love grieve thee,
Or break thy heart with bitter loss?
The Christ, so near to thee,
Speaks to thy troubled thought
Compassionately, tenderly:
See! He lives!