"IBRING Thee balm, and, lo, Thou art not here! Twice have I poured mine ointment on Thy brow, And washed Thy feet with tears. Disdain'st Thou now The spikenard and the myrrh? Has Death, alas, betrayed Thee with a kiss That seals Thee from the memory of mine?" "Mary!" It is the self-same Voice Divine. "Rabboni!" -- only this. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 20 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 2 by THOMAS CAMPION THE MAY QUEEN by ALFRED TENNYSON SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS; A LEGEND OF GERMANY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE PRETENCE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PSALM 117 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE BY WAY OF THE STARS by LEVI BISHOP THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 49. FAREWELL TO JULIET (11) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |