THEKOSE-BUD. 63 
God only, and good angels, look 
Behind the blissful screen— 
As when, triumphant o’er his woes. 
The Son of God, by moonlight rose, 
By all but Heaven unseen 
As when the holy maid beheld 
Her risen Son and Lord : 
Thought has not colors half so fair 
That she to paint that hour may dare. 
In silence best adored. 
The gracious Dove, that brougnt from heaven 
The earnest of our bliss. 
Of many a chosen witness telling. 
On many a happy vision dwelling, 
Sings not a note of this. 
So, truest image of the Christ, 
Old Israel’s long-lost Son, 
What time, with sweet forgiving cheer, 
He called his conscious brethren near. 
Would weep with them alone. 
