And no one dares to speak; yet verily,
Hath it been noised abroad that He must die.
And Mary, thou remainest secretly
Shut in thine upper-chamber, there to be
In readiness. O Mother, woe is thee.
Thine eyes are dim with weeping: verily,
They treat as sacred thy heart's agony;
Nor do they speak of common things to thee.
Heart wrung, yet self-contained, thy Soul would be
Burning to seek the Father's clemency.
'O God, Thy Will be done. My Father, be
My strength and fortitude. I look to Thee
In mine affliction. Yet, oh, verily,
I would not suffer less so I may be
With Him the Offering for sin's penalty.
'To suffer and to die. Ah, could I be
Instead, the Victim of Thy Justice - be
The Outcast from my people, and by Thee
Condemned to every weight of misery.
But, if He die - oh, let Him die with me.
'My Father, oh, I thank Thee that through me
The Satisfaction comes - yea, goes - to Thee.
Let me not fail, nor falter. I would be
His one Companion to the end. Ah see,
With tears I give my Child, mine All, to Thee.
'Oh, look upon my sorrow: Father, see,
Was ever sorrow like to mine? Then be
Thou piteous, Father, unto Him and me.
Me hast thou chosen for His Mother. Be,
O Father, gracious in extremity.
'O God, so great in Anger, verily,
Must this Thine Only One-begotten, be
The Only One to bear sin's penalty?
Cannot the doom be altered? May not He
Thy Holy One be spared this infamy?'
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote