“ Yes, weep, O woman frail and fair ;1
Though tears that fall so fast2
Amid that bright up-braided hair3
Can ne’er efface the past.4
“ Though other drops, whose power divine5
Can wash thy stains away,6
Must plead e’en more than tears like
thine ;7
thine ;7
More holy still than they.8
“ Had He who pardons bid thee bring9
Those tears his love to buy,10
That word had ne’er unseal’d the spring11
That fills thy streaming eye.12
“ Ah ’twas not Sinai’s flash that taught13
That frozen fount to glow :14
No—milder, mightier rays it caught ;15
And lo, the waters flow !16
“ Pour then thine odours—pour, and see,17
In Him on whom they fall,18
The vase of clay that holds for thee19
Balm costlier far than all.20
“ More fragrant unction on that brow21
Rests, where his Father smiled :22
He bears a brother’s name ; for thou,23
Thou too art call’d a child.24
“ Oh wondrous !— pour a heaven of tears :25
When sin’s erased above,26
How dark that record torn appears,27
In the full light of love !”28