XXI.
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HB yrBGiir. Mother ! whose yirgin bosom wsub uncrosfcWith the least shade of thought to sin altied ;Woman ) above all women glorified.Our tainted nature's solitary boast ;Purer than foam on oentrstl ocean tost ;Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewnWith fancied roses, than the unblemished moonBefore her wane begins on heaven's blue coast ;Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some^ I ween,Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend.As to a visible Power, in which did blendAll that was mixed and reconciled in Thee * Of mother^s love with muden pnrity,Of high with low, celestial with terrene ! ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS. 253
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