To you and you it shall be given,
As unto Mary her lost Heaven;
Her Son and your son come
Alive out of the grave and gloom.
Like hers your bliss is pre-ordained
To see the wounds healed and unstained;
Yea, you shall kiss with her
Where the sharp blade hath left no scar.
They shall come in warm to your cold
Dropped arms that found naught to enfold,
And on your heart be laid
The young, the beloved, thorn-crowned head.
Sudden some dawning or some eve
Your dead son shall come in alive,
As once came Mary's Son;
The lost, the incredible Heaven be won.
