Herself a Rose

Our brother over at biblicalia posted this poem. It is a good one, and especially appropriate since we are approaching the Feast of the Dormition of the Theotokos.

Herself a rose, who bore the Rose
She bore the Rose and felt its thorn.
All Loveliness new-born
Took on her bosom its repose,
And slept and woke there night and morn.

Lily herself, she bore the one
Fair Lily ; sweeter, whiter, far
Than she or others are :
The Sun of Righteousness her Son,
She was His morning star.

She gracious, He essential Grace,
He was the Fountain, she the rill :
Her goodness to fulfil
And gladness, with proportioned pace
He led her steps thro’ good and ill.

Christ’s mirror she of grace and love,
Of beauty and of life and death :
By hope and love and faith
Transfigured to His Likeness, ‘Dove,
Spouse, Sister, Mother,’ Jesus saith.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, circa 1877