A Hidden Life

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THE WOMAN THAT CRIED IN THE CROWD.


She says within: "It is a man,

  A man of mother born; She is a woman--I am one,

  Alive this holy morn."

Filled with his words that flow in light,

  Her heart will break or cry: A woman's cry bursts forth in might

  Of loving agony.

"Blessed the womb, Thee, Lord, that bore!

  The breast where Thou hast fed!" Storm-like those words the silence tore,

  Though words the silence bred.

He ceases, listens to the cry,

  And knows from whence it springs; A woman's heart that glad would die

  For this her best of things.

Yet there is better than the birth

  Of such a mighty son; Better than know, of all the earth

  Thyself the chosen one.

"Yea, rather, blessed they that hear,

  And keep the word of God." The voice was gentle, not severe:

  No answer came abroad.





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