A NUN TO MARY, VIRGIN

A NUN TO MARY, VIRGIN

I had gone fruitless and defenceless, Lady,

had it not been for your strange Blossoming;

out of the sun and rain, in still and shady

and lonely moorlands, uncaressed by wing,

my having life had been a thing to mourn for,

passing none on nor yielding up her perfume -

without you, I had cringed beneath men's scorn for

skylarks that soar not, trees that do not bloom,

without you, I had had no answer to

sharp gibes against my love and my sweet Mating -

now, as I reach to take a Child from you,

these lips send far beyond my cloister-grating

the canticle a million maids have cried,

finding in you themselves: and justified.

Sister M St Virginia BVM

America. 7 April 1936

Used with permission