Poems (Procter)/The Annunciation

by Adelaide Anne Procter

For works with similar titles, see The Annunciation.

THE ANNUNCIATION.

OW pure, and frail, and white,  The snowdrops shine!Gather a garland bright  For Mary's shrine.

For, born of winter snows,  These fragile flowersAre gifts to our fair Queen  From Spring's first hours.

For on this blessèd day  She knelt at prayer;When, lo! before her shone  An Angel fair.

"Hail, Mary!" thus he cried,  With reverent fear:She, with sweet wondering eyes,  Marvelled to hear.

Be still, ye clouds of Heaven!  Be silent, Earth!And hear an Angel tell  Of Jesus' birth,

While she, whom Gabriel hails  As full of grace,Listens with humble faith  In her sweet face.

Be still, Pride, War, and Pomp,  Vain Hopes, vain Fears,For now an Angel speaks,  And Mary hears.

"Hail, Mary!" lo, it rings  Through ages on;"Hail, Mary!" it shall sound,  Till Time is done.

"Hail, Mary!" infant lips  Lisp it to-day;"Hail, Mary!" with faint smile  The dying say.

"Hail, Mary!" many a heart  Broken with grief,In that angelic prayer  Has found relief.

And many a half-lost soul,  When turned at bay,With those triumphant words  Has won the day.

"Hail, Mary, Queen of Heaven!"  Let us repeat,And place our snowdrop wreath  Here at her feet.