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Show MARY'S. HOUR. She held Him close and. all the world forgetting, Sat with His little head upon her breast; . Soothed, with her murmuring speech, His baby fret-tinr: fret-tinr: , Hushed Him within her circling arms-to rest! - --: This is her hour. Before her, lie the danger Of unknown pathways and a cruel foe FJight and pursuit the coldness of the stranger In aiien land all these must Mary know. This is her hour. The sword of grief and sorrow-Will sorrow-Will pierce her heart make every breath a pain: ' Tonight is hers. Ere day-dawn on the morrow, The Son of Man begins His shadowed reign. Tonight is hers. The years of desolation The scorn of those who seek, but to deride: The felon's death and "this for His own nation." Behold in Mary's arms the Cricified! In Mary's "arms! But this is Mary's hour: Her God and Lord for ons brief moment hers. In helplessness she knows His mighty power; His weakness all her love and longing stirs! Ah Mar'. olasp Him close! the world forgetting; Sit with His little head upon your breast; Soothe, with your murmuring speech. His baby fret-! fret-! tin"; ' ' O patient One, alwve all women blest!- . Written for Benziger s Magazine. |