With wandering eyes and aimless zeal, <br />She hither, thither, goes; <br />Her speech, her motions, all reveal <br />A mind without repose. <br /> <br />She climbs the hills, she haunts the sea, <br />By madness tortured, driven; <br />One hour's forgetfulness would be <br />A gift from very heaven! <br /> <br />She slumbers into new distress; <br />The night is worse than day: <br />Exulting in her helplessness, <br />Hell's dogs yet louder bay. <br /> <br />The demons blast her to and fro; <br />She has no quiet place, <br />Enough a woman still, to know <br />A haunting dim disgrace. <br /> <br />A human touch! a pang of death! <br />And in a low delight <br />Thou liest, waiting for new breath. <br />For morning out of night. <br /> <br />Thou risest up: the earth is fair, <br />The wind is cool; thou art free! <br />Is it a dream of hell's despair <br />Dissolves in ecstasy? <br /> <br />That man did touch thee! Eyes divine <br />Make sunrise in thy soul; <br />Thou seest love in order shine:- <br />His health hath made thee whole! <br /> <br />Thou, sharing in the awful doom, <br />Didst help thy Lord to die; <br />Then, weeping o'er his empty tomb, <br />Didst hear him <br />Mary <br />cry. <br /> <br />He stands in haste; he cannot stop; <br />Home to his God he fares: <br />'Go tell my brothers I go up <br />To my Father, mine and theirs.' <br /> <br />Run, Mary! lift thy heavenly voice; <br />Cry, cry, and heed not how; <br />Make all the new-risen world rejoice- <br />Its first apostle thou! <br /> <br />What if old tales of thee have lied, <br />Or truth have told, thou art <br />All-safe with him, whate'er betide- <br />Dwell'st with him in God's heart!<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mary-magdalene-6/
