To Mary.

A poem by Nora Pembroke

It is not very long since first we met,
Thy path and mine lay very far apart;
We are not of one nation, dear one, yet
Thou hast awakened love within my heart.

It is a love that sorrow never tried,
And yet, like tested love, it is as true
As love that stood in dark hours by your side,
If hours were ever dark or sad to you.

Not for your beauty, though I think you fair,
Not for the kind heart or the tender word;
But for the kindredship,--because you were
One who both knew and loved my gracious Lord.

One who had often met with Him alone;
One over whom His garment had been laid;
Clothed on with beauty that was not your own,
Bought with a price no other could have paid,

Divided by the ridge of time are we,
Yet we are near akin at heart my friend,
Our prayers and praises will together be
Blended and fused in one as they ascend

For I, too, heard the Well-Beloved's voice,
Calling the new life in the soul to wake,
Drawing us after Him in loving choice,
Making us love His loved ones for His sake

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