The Gospel Women 15: Mary Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC DEDE FGFG HIHI JKJK LMLN OPQP JRJR RLRL RRRR GRGR A RSRS IRIR MTMT UJUJ RLRL RVRV RIRI RWRW

IA
-
She sitteth at the Master's feetB
In motionless employC
Her ears her heart her soul completeB
Drinks in the tide of joyC
-
Ah who but she the glory knowsD
Of life pure high intenseE
In whose eternal silence blowsD
The wind beyond the senseE
-
In her still ear God's perfect graceF
Incarnate is in voiceG
Her thoughts the people of the placeF
Receive it and rejoiceG
-
Her eyes with heavenly reason brightH
Are on the ground cast lowI
His words of spirit life and lightH
They set them shining soI
-
But see a face is at the doorJ
Whose eyes are not at restK
A voice breaks on divinest loreJ
With petulant requestK
-
Master it said dost thou not careL
She lets me serve aloneM
Tell her to come and take her shareL
But Mary's eyes shine onN
-
She lifts them with a questioning glanceO
Calmly to him who heardP
The merest sign she'll rise at onceQ
Nor wait the uttered wordP
-
His Martha Martha with it boreJ
A sense of coming nayR
He told her that her trouble soreJ
Was needless any dayR
-
And he would not have Mary chidR
For want of needless careL
The needful thing was what she didR
At his feet sitting thereL
-
Sure joy awoke in her dear heartR
Doing the thing it wouldR
When he the holy took her partR
And called her choice the goodR
-
Oh needful thing Oh Mary's choiceG
Go not from us awayR
Oh Jesus with the living voiceG
Talk to us every dayR
-
-
IIA
-
Not now the living words are pouredR
Into one listening earS
For many guests are at the boardR
And many speak and hearS
-
With sacred foot refrained and slowI
With daring trembling treadR
She comes in worship bending lowI
Behind the godlike headR
-
The costly chrism in snowy stoneM
A gracious odour sendsT
Her little hoard by sparing grownM
In one full act she spendsT
-
She breaks the box the honoured thingU
See how its riches pourJ
Her priestly hands anoint him kingU
Whom peasant Mary boreJ
-
-
-
Not so does John the tale repeatR
He saw for he was thereL
Mary anoint the Master's feetR
And wipe them with her hairL
-
Perhaps she did his head anointR
And then his feet as wellV
And John this one forgotten pointR
Loved best of all to tellV
-
'Twas Judas called the splendour wasteR
'Twas Jesus said Not soI
Said that her love his burial gracedR
Ye have the poor I goI
-
Her hands unwares outsped his fateR
The truth king's felon doomW
The other women were too lateR
For he had left the tombW

George Macdonald



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