THE MAKING OF VIOLA
The Father of Heaven.
Spin, daughter Mary, spin,
Twirl your wheel with silver din;
Spin, daughter Mary, spin,
Spin a tress for Viola.
Angels.
Spin, Queen Mary, a
Brown tress for Viola!
The Father of Heaven.
Weave, hands angelical,
Weave a woof of flesh to pall —
Weave, hands angelical —
Flesh to pall our Viola.
Angels.
Weave, singing brothers, a
Velvet flesh for Viola!
The Father of Heaven.
Scoop, young Jesus, for her eyes,
Wood-browned pools of Paradise —
Young Jesus, for the eyes,
For the eyes of Viola.
Angels.
Tint, Prince Jesus, a
Dusked eye for Viola!
The Father of Heaven.
Cast a star therein to drown,
Like a torch in cavern brown,
Sink a burning star to drown
Whelmed in eyes of Viola.
Angels.
Lave, Prince Jesus, a
Star in eyes of Viola!
The Father of Heaven.
Breathe, Lord Paraclete,
To a bubbled crystal meet —
Breathe, Lord Paraclete —
Crystal soul for Viola.
Angels.
Breathe, Regal Spirit, a
Flashing soul for Viola!
The Father of Heaven.
Child-angels, from your wings
Fall the roseal hoverings,
Child-angels, from your wings
On the cheeks of Viola.
Angels.
Linger, rosy reflex, a
Quenchless stain, on Viola!
All things being accomplished, saith the Father of Heaven:
Bear her down, and bearing, sing,
Bear her down on spyless wing,
Bear her down, and bearing, sing,
With a sound of viola.
Angels.
Music as her name is, a
Sweet sound of Viola!
Wheeling angels, past espial,
Danced her down with sound of viol;
Wheeling angels, past espial,
Descanting on “Viola.”
Angels.
Sing, in our footing, a
Lovely lilt of “Viola!”
Baby smiled, mother wailed,
Earthward while the sweetling sailed;
Mother smiled, baby wailed,
When to earth came Viola.
And her elders shall say:
So soon have we taught you a
Way to weep, poor Viola!
Smile, sweet baby, smile,
For you will have weeping-while;
Native in your Heaven is smile,—
But your weeping, Viola?
Whence your smiles, we know, but ah!
Whence your weeping, Viola?—
Our first gift to you is a
Gift of tears, my Viola!