<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421153" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Churching Of Women</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is there, in bowers of endless spring,<br> One known from all the seraph band<br> By softer voice, by smile and wing<br> More exquisitely bland!<br> Here let him speed: to-day this hallowed air<br>Is fragrant with a mother's first and fondest prayer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Only let Heaven her fire impart,<br> No richer incense breathes on earth:<br> &quot;A spouse with all a daughter's heart,&quot;<br> Fresh from the perilous birth,<br> To the great Father lifts her pale glad eye,<br>Like a reviving flower when storms are hushed on high.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Oh, what a treasure of sweet thought<br> Is here! what hope and joy and love<br> All in one tender bosom brought,<br> For the all-gracious Dove<br> To brood o'er silently, and form for Heaven<br>Each passionate wish and dream to dear affection given.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Her fluttering heart, too keenly blest,<br> Would sicken, but she leans on Thee,<br> Sees Thee by faith on Mary's breast,<br> And breathes serene and free.<br> Slight tremblings only of her veil declare<br>Soft answers duly whispered to each soothing prayer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> We are too weak, when Thou dost bless,<br> To bear the joy--help, Virgin-born!<br> By Thine own mother's first caress,<br> That waked Thy natal morn!<br> Help, by the unexpressive smile, that made<br>A Heaven on earth around this couch where Thou wast laid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keble">John Keble</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421153" data-title="Churching Of Women de John Keble" data-description="Is there, in bowers of endless spring, One known from all the seraph band By softer voice, by smile and wing More exquisitely bland! Here let him speed: to-day this hallowed air Is fragrant with a mother's first and fondest prayer. Only let ..."></div> </div> </div>

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