The Madonna Of The Veil

Light through a little veil is all thy trace
Of halo, blessed Child!
The sorrow of the world is in thy face,
fair, undefiled!
dear and undefiled!

The kneeling boy, with pretty lips apart,
Half loves, half worships thee;
Baby and sweet, yet separate thou art
To that simplicity,
To that young piety!

But Mary's look no hint of anguish stirs;
Perfect that motherhood;
One day the bitter sword, this day is hers;
And, God!, how very good!
gracious God! How good!