YE WHO MOURN BE COMFORTED
As eyes that love grow tender after tears,
so sorrow gives the hand a gentle touch;
then, Mother of all Sorrows, still the fears
that hold the world in unrelenting clutch.
Sustain the weak, and calm unquiet hearts
and minds as restless as the shifting sand.
more potent far than all the finer arts,
is vibrant language of the heart and hand.
O give them courage now to dig the field
and gather fruits of labour, trusting God.
Beyond all thought will be the harvest yield;
for lifeless wheat will blossom at His nod,
as limpid water crimsoned into wine,
to show the power of the Living Vine.
Sister M Eulalia
Commonweal. March 1934
From 'A Silence full of bells'
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