WHAT great Apostle, When the Christ rose, Met with him secretly In the garden close? Fast ran Saint Peter, Fast ran Saint John, When they heard the rumour, But our Lord was gone. Only in the morning He was earliest seen By a weeping spirit, Mary Magdalene. Once in a glory To my heart he came, Born of a maiden, With love for his name; But what bitter passion On myself for tree Hath his bounty suffered! Now deep in me, Silent, unmanifest, Hiding his power, During a time and times, Waits he his hour. High Imaginations, Wait, sad and still, Till a sudden rumour Your desire fulfil. But, O blessed Magdalene, When the first dawn Shines across my spirit From that garden lawn, Watch with me, speak with me, Blind me with tears, When angels fall silent And Himself appears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUNG SAMMY'S FIRST WILD OATS by GEORGE SANTAYANA SILVER by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE MENAPHON: SEPHESTIA'S [CRADLE] SONG TO HER CHILD by ROBERT GREENE WINTER HEAVENS by GEORGE MEREDITH SONNET: 65 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE JUST A-RIDIN'! by ELWOOD ADAMS FREQUENTLY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |