Chapter XC

Think of those who watch’d the dawn,
Pilgrims, o’er the desert drawn,
Round the Sepulchre afar,
Where the turban’d Paynims are!
Think, who, there, His love to shew,
Rose two thousand years ago!
Think, how Mary wept to say,
They have ta’en my Lord away;
Think, when Christ appear’d to her
How she call’d Him—gardener:
Picture then the fond reply,
Mary———and her swimming eye.