XXXI.

By Aubrey De Vere

As, flying Herod, southward went

That Child and Mother, unamazed,

Into Egyptian banishment,

The weeders left their work, and gazed.

The bright One spake to them and said,

“When Herod's messengers demand,

“Passed not the Infant, Herod's dread,—

“Passed not the Infant through your land?

“Then shall ye answer make, and say,

“Behold, since first the corn was green

“No little Infant passed this way;

“No little Infant we have seen.”

Earth heard; nor missed the Maid's intent —

As on the Flower of Eden passed

With Eden swiftness up she sent

A sun-browned harvest ripening fast.

By simplest words and sinless wheat

The messengers rode back beguiled;

And by that truthfullest deceit

Which saved the little new-born Child!