Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Our Lady

Mother of God! no lady thou:

Common woman of common earth

Our Lady ladies call thee now,

But Christ was never of gentle birth;

A common man of the common earth.

For God’s ways are not as our ways:

The noblest lady in the land

Would have given up half her days,

Would have cut off her right hand,

To bear the child that was God of the land.

Never a lady did He choose,

Only a maid of low degree,

So humble she might not refuse

The carpenter of Galilee:

A daughter of the people, she.

Out she sang the song of her heart.

Never a lady so had sung.

She knew no letters, had no art;

To all mankind, in woman’s tongue,

Hath Israelitish Mary sung.

And still for men to come she sings,

Nor shall her singing pass away.

‘He hath fillàd the hungry with good things’—

O listen, lords and ladies gay!—

‘And the rich He hath sent empty away.’

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Good Friday in my Heart

Good friday in my heart! Fear and affright!

My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,

My words the words that priest and soldier said,

My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.

And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night.

Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun.

My thoughts are Mary, when she turned to see.

My words are Peter, answering, ‘Lov’st thou Me?’

My deeds are all Thine own drawn close to Thee,

And night and day, since Thou dost rise, are one.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Blue and White

Blue is Our Lady’s colour,

White is Our Lord’s.

To-morrow I will wear a knot

Of blue and white cords,

That you may see it, where you ride

Among the flashing swords.

O banner, white and sunny blue,

With prayer I wove thee!

For love the white, for faith the heavenly hue,

And both for him, so tender-true,

Him that doth love me!

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Affection

The earth that made the rose,

She also is thy mother, and not I.

The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows

Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by.

I am as far below as heaven above thee.

Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee.

Bid me defend thee!

Thy danger over-human strength shall lend me,

A hand of iron and a heart of steel,

To strike, to wound, to slay, and not to feel.

But if you chide me,

I am a weak, defenceless child beside thee

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Jealousy

‘The myrtle bush grew shady

Down by the ford.’

‘Is it even so?’ said my lady.

‘Even so!’ said my lord.

‘The leaves are set too thick together

For the point of a sword.

‘The arras in your room hangs close,

No light between!

You wedded one of those that see unseen.’

‘Is it even so?’ said the King’s Majesty.

‘Even so!’ said the Queen.