POETRY.
THE LEGEND OF THE ASS. "WHAT means the mark upon thy back, dear Griz P I trace it on thy shoulders as I ride. Slender the cross it seems that shadowed is Even to thy side."
"Well may'st thou ask of me, who bear'st the sign, Albeit unseen, upon thy tender brow. Are we not signed with the self-same sign, Even I and thou ?
Behold an heritage, and who shall know What mystic vertue the great sign contains— Where is the hardship of the cruel blow Of whip and reins P Nay, when we shrink beneath a cudgelled hide Dawns a far memory all sorrow calms, We hear the murmur of the multitude,
We see the palms—
And all else falls from us. It matters not
If we with Suffering keep patient tryst. We, as a race, 0 child, may share thy lot,
We have served Christ?'
The grey ass halted in her pattering pace, High-hoofed and obdurate, sleek-eared, and mild, A world of wisdom in a velvet face Turned to the child.
"So have we patience. And in fortitude Do thou wax stronger as the years pass on, So shalt thou in thine heart, a living rood, Carry God's Son." PAMELA TENNANT.
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