'Twas now the time when, stepping down from her ethereal bowers,
The touch of Spring's dew-sandalled foot kindles the earth with flowers.
Fair rose the morn on Judah's hills: as Miriam waked, a band
Of earnest men drew nigh: there Christ led Herman by the hand.
“Woman, thy son's restored to thee,” the blessed Jesus said;
And with a shriek of joy she clasped, she kissed her Herman's head.
And he, too, wept, like one in whom pride is o'ermastered last.
Meanwhile, with modesty divine, Jesus away had passed.
Then Miriam took her Herman's hand, and led him to her home.
Came quiet days: he lived like one by some strange blight o'ercome.
His spirit pined, his days declined: beneath his mother's eye
Of watchful love he bowed his head austerely calm to die.
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