| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXIV. Bitter Sorrow
From ‘The Widow on Windermere side’ | | By William Wordsworth (1770–1850) |
| |
THE MOTHER mourned, nor ceased her tears to flow, | |
| Till a winter’s noon-day placed her buried Son | |
| Before her eyes, last child of many gone— | |
| His raiment of angelic white, and lo! | |
| His very feet bright as the dazzling snow | 5 |
| Which they are touching; yea far brighter, even | |
| As that which comes, or seems to come, from heaven, | |
| Surpasses aught these elements can show. | |
| Much she rejoiced, trusting that from that hour | |
| Whate’er befell she could not grieve or pine; | 10 |
| But the Transfigured, in and out of season, | |
| Appeared, and spiritual presence gained a power | |
| Over material forms that mastered reason. | |
| Oh, gracious Heaven, in pity make her thine! | | | | |
|
|
