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Katharine Lee Bates - The Purple ThreadKatharine Lee Bates - The Purple Thread
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"The priests distributed various coloured silken threads to weave for the veil of the sanctuary; and it fell to Mary`s lot to weave purple." —The Book of the Bee, ch. XXXIV. I THE chosen maidens, Weavers of the Veil, Kneeling in crescent, from the High Priest took Their wisps of silk in slender hands that shook Lifting the colors to their lips rose-pale With holy passion, —colors like the frail Spring flowers of Carmel, blue as that glad look Of dancing iris, scarlet as a nook Of wild anemones, or gold as sail Seen from its summit `neath the Syrian moon. But Mary caught her breath in one swift sob Of pain uncomprehended ere it fled, Leaving her heart with some strange fear a-throb, For the wise priest, as one conferring boon, Had meted out to her a purple thread. II O mothers of the race, ye blessèd ones Who weave with cherubim the veil before The Holy Place of God, the mystic door Of life, proud mothers of belovèd sons, To-day you send them forth to front the guns, Waving your boys farewell with smiles that pour Strength into their young souls. Your prayers implore The Mercy Seat; your love, an angel, runs Before them with wild, shielding arms outspread. O Weavers of the Veil, however varies The silk assigned, exceeding great reward Is yours, for you —O you, most sacred Maries, To whom is given grief`s royal, purple thread Make beautiful the temple of the Lord.
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