| W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895. | | | | Mary | | George MacDonald (1824–1905) |
| | | NOT now the living words are poured | |
| Into her single heart; | |
| For many guests are at the board, | |
| And many tongues take part. | |
| |
| With sacred foot, refrained and slow, | 5 |
| With daring, trembling tread, | |
| She comes, with worship bending low | |
| Behind the godlike head. | |
| |
| The costly chrism, in snowy stone, | |
| A gracious odour sends. | 10 |
| Her little hoard, so slowly grown, | |
| In one full act she spends. | |
| |
| She breaks the box, the honoured thing! | |
| And down its riches pour; | |
| Her priestly hands anoint her king, | 15 |
| To reign for evermore. | |
| |
| With murmur and nod, they called it waste: | |
| Their love they could endure; | |
| Hers ached a prisoner in her breast, | |
| And she forgot the poor. | 20 |
| |
| She meant it for his coming state | |
| He took it for his doom. | |
| The other women were too late, | |
| For he had left the tomb. | | | | |
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