The Visitation

(From the picture in Dürer's series on "The Life of the Virgin")


    The mountains wonder from their cloudy height,
    The skies look on and grow more deep with awe;
    From these two women, earthly loves withdraw,
    And leave them shrined in some ensphering light,--
    More fine than that which greets the earthly sight,
    More glorious than that Creation saw,
    When, from abeyance to primeval law,
    There burst the dawn from out the womb of night;
    Yet are all things unchanged around them,--these,
    The ancient hills, the town, the quiet trees,
    The household presences through which they grope
    Blind to all else but to each other's eyes,
    Wherein, transforming heaven and earth, there lies
    Sublime effulgence of immortal Hope.

Ethel Allen Murphy

Ethel Allen Murphy was an American poet who wrote extensively on themes of nature, imagination, and human experience. Her works often encapsulate the beauty and depth of the natural world, drawing connections between the environment and personal reflection. While much of her life and career details remain obscure, her poetry continues to be celebrated for its lyrical quality and emotional resonance.

Ethel Allen Murphy

A Botticelli Madonna III The Loving Christ

Ethel Allen Murphy, Simple Poetry

The Angel Of Thought

Ethel Allen Murphy, Simple Poetry

A Botticelli Madonna II The Mournful Mother

Ethel Allen Murphy, Simple Poetry

Annunciation - From A Picture By Botticelli

Ethel Allen Murphy, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Visitation

(For Louise Imogen Guiney)



There is a wall of flesh before the eyes
Of John, who yet perceives and hails his King.
It is Our Lady's painful bliss to bring
Before mankind the Glory of the skies.
Her cousin feels her womb's sweet burden rise
And leap with joy, and she comes forth to sing,
With trembling mouth, her words of welcoming.
She knows her hidden God, and prophesies.

Saint John, pray for us, weary souls that tarry
Where life is withered by sin's deadly breath.
Pray for us, whom the dogs of Satan harry,
Saint John, Saint Anne, and Saint Elizabeth.
And, Mother Mary, give us Christ to carry
Within our hearts, that we may conquer death.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Divine Visitation

The heavens lay hold on us: the starry rays
Fondle with flickering fingers brow and eyes:
A new enchantment lights the ancient skies.
What is it looks between us gaze on gaze?
Does the wild spirit of the endless days
Chase through my heart some lure that ever flies?
Only I know the vast within me cries
Finding in thee the ending of all ways.
Ah, but they vanish; the immortal train
From thee, from me, depart, yet take from thee
Memorial grace: laden with adoration
Forth from this heart they flow that all in vain
Would stay the proud eternal powers that flee
After the chase in burning exultation.

George William Russell

Annunciation - From A Picture By Botticelli

    Immortal eloquence of mystic Art!
    How strangely o'er oblivion and gray time,
    That hand doth speak, as in the painter's prime
    It uttered thus his own and Mary's heart,
    At sight of it, what rich conjectures start,
    Adown the years, what wistful Aves chime,
    That wake the soul to rapture how sublime,
    Wherewith we, too, must bear in Him our part!
    For unto each to bring redemption's share,
    Whereby adown the ages Christ is borne,
    There comes the angel of the lilied rod;
    And though our souls with anguish sore are torn,
    We pray once more the world-o'ercoming prayer,
    And then is born in us the Word of God.

Ethel Allen Murphy

Annunciation - From The Picture By Botticelli

Kneeling in prayer, her spirit rapt above,
She meets with God, Who bendeth, brooding low,
In vast compassion humanward, and so,
There comes upon her life the power of Love:
Rising--behold! with pinions like a dove,
An angel with a rod where row on row
Of chaliced lilies spill supernal glow,--
Which all her thought to wonder mute doth move.
Then falls upon the rapture of her soul,
Dimly some vision of Gethsemane,
Athwart the Resurrection's shining goal,
And with uplifted hand she pleads as One
Shall pray in night of darkest agony,
"This cup remove,--yet, Lord, Thy Will be done."

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Ethel Allen Murphy

A Botticelli Madonna I The Wondering Angels

Behold! the Tabernacle of God's Will
This woman's form enshrineth. What is this,
More glorious than all our age-long bliss,
Which shines within the shadow of her sill?
How shall we lift this strangeness which doth fill
Her human heart to breaking,--we who miss
In our immortal joy, the enlight'ning kiss
Of sorrow's bitter lips whence comforts thrill?
How shall we sing to her of joys to come,
To her who bears upon her breast the sum
Of death's dread gloom and heaven's undying light?
Lean close, ah, close, about her from above,--
Behold upon the mildness of her love
Enthroned the terrors of His Holy Might!

Ethel Allen Murphy

A Botticelli Madonna III The Loving Christ

The little hands returning wistfully
From birdlike wand'rings, ever come to rest,
On fostering hand on tender cheek or breast;
The upturned eyes, with loving certainty
Seek ever the grave face where broodingly,
The mother-soul by yearning love opprest,
With wings down-drooped, seems folded o'er the nest
Where lies the Hope of all humanity.
And she His World, and He her Calvary,--
He wraps her round with all the mystery
Of love predestined for earth's needy ones;
"Be comforted," it seems He fain would say,
"O mother mine, there dawns an Easter day,
And thou in me hast mothered many sons."

Ethel Allen Murphy