Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Rosa MulhollandSister Mary of the Love of God
T
Comfort the dying, make the ailing strong;
Covered, you see, with ivy, very thick;
Haunt of the birds, alive with bloom and song.
The happy sisters flitting to and fro;
Ah, blessings on the wise and gentle heads
That planned this place a hundred years ago!
Travelled with tender feet a weary road.
I ’ll tell you now the little history
Of Sister Mary of the Love of God.
She danced away her days in careless glee;
A bird beside her window came and sate,
And piped and sang, “The Lord has need of thee!”
The restless dance, the music’s merry clang,
That bird would perch upon the window sill:
“The Lord hath need of thee,” it piped and sang.
And roused with eager call the minstrel gray:
“The birds are singing strange things in the night;
Tune me, O minstrel, something blythe and gay!”
The laughing echoes wakened merrily;
The lady turned as white as lily-flower,—
The music trilled, “The Lord has need of thee!”
While lively footsteps on the floor did beat;
The lady led the dance with looks amazed,—
“The Lord doth need thee!” said the dancer’s feet.
In golden goblets clinking round the board;
The flashing cups from hand to hand did shine,
And rang and chaimed “Go, give thee to the Lord!”
Then raised her downcast face, all pale and sweet:
“There is a beggar lying at the gate—
Go, bring him in, that I may wash his feet.”
They looked upon her eyes so strange and glad;
They whispered, “She is not as she hath been;”
Her damsels wept, “Our lady hath gone mad!”
Then sang the minstrels many a mournful rhyme,
Till some forgot her as one never known,
And others said, “She hath some heavy crime.”
This ivy on the walls is thick, you see;
The world would laugh if I should tell it so
Of Sister Mary’s little history.
One wears that gem of hers, another this;
But she is happy and the poor are gay,
The sick are smiling and the dead in bliss!