32. The Apparition of Jesus to our Blessed Lady

O Queen of Sorrows! raise thine eyes;
See! the first light of dawn is there;
The houi s come and thou must end
Thy Forty Hours of lonely prayer.

Day dawns; it brightens on the hill:
New grace, new powers within her wake,
Lest the full tide of joy should crush
The heart that sorrow could not break.

Oh never yet had Acts of Hope
Been offered to the throne on high,
Like those that died on Mary's lip,
And beamed from out her glistening eye.

Hush! there is silence in her heart.
Deeper than when Saint Gabriel spoke.
And u])on midnight's tinkling ear
the blessed Ave sweetly broke.

Ah me! what wondrous change is this!
What trembling floods of noiseless light!
Jesus before His Mother stands,
Jesus, all beautiful and bright!

He comes! He comes! and will she run
With freest love her Child to greet?,
He came! and she, His creature, fell
Prostrate at her Creator's Feet.

He raised her up; He pressed her head
Gently against His wounded Side;
He gave her spirit strength to bear
The sight of Jesus Glorified.

From out His Eyes, from out His Wounds
A power of awful beauty shone;
Oh how the speechless Mother gazed
Upon the glory of her Son!

She could not doubt; 'twas truly He
Who had been with her from the first, —
The very Eyes, the Mouth, the Hair,
The very Babe whom she had nursed, —

Her bunion o'er the desert sand,
The hel])niate of her toils, — 'twas He, '
He by whoso deathbed she had stood
Long hours beneath the bleeding Tree.

His crimson Wounds, they shone like suns,
His beaming Hand was raised to bless;
The sweetness of His voice had hushed
The angels into silentness.

His sacred Flesh like spirit glowed,
Glowed with immortal beauty's might:
His smiles were like the virgin rays
That sprang from new-created light.

When wilt thou drink that beauty in?
Mother! when wilt thou satisfy
With those adoring looks of love
The thirst of thine ecstatic eye?

Not yet, not yet, thy wondrous joy
Is filled to its mysterious brim;
Thou hast another sight to see
To which this vision is t|ut dim!

Jesus Into His ^lother's heart
A special gift of strength did pour,
That she might bear what none had borne
Amid the sons of earth before.

Oh let not words be bold to tell
What in the Mother's heart was done,
When for a moment Mary saw
The unshrouded Godhead of her Son.

What bliss for us that Jesus gave
To her such wondrous gifts and powers;
It is a joy the joys were hers,
For Mary's joys are doubly ours 1