In Mary’s Church of Angels by the shore—
Wherein Luini, labouring for his bread,
Painted the Bread of Heaven, a Saviour dead,
And gained not gold, but fame for evermore—
Is Christ the Child, and She whom men adore:
He rides no horse, bestrides a lamb instead,
Facing the boy Saint John with curly head,
And heart ripe-full of frolic to the core.
But I might see how still the Saviour-Child
Looked for communion to His Mother’s eyes,
And questioning held the lambkin by its ear,
While She, as if She felt how sacrifice
And some dark day of doom was drawing near,
With sweet assent most pitifully smiled.
(Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy, p. 67)