The Hosts of Mary
She came unto a great tree
With low boughs and fair,
Out of the hard road
And the noon's glare;
The cool shade encircled her
Like kind arms there.
She came unto a still brook
In a green place;
There did she wash the dust
From her sweet face,
There did she stoop and drink,
And rest a space.
The great tree, the little brook —
Kind hosts were they;
Think you she thought of them
At end of day,
When from the inn's closed door
She turned away?
With low boughs and fair,
Out of the hard road
And the noon's glare;
The cool shade encircled her
Like kind arms there.
She came unto a still brook
In a green place;
There did she wash the dust
From her sweet face,
There did she stoop and drink,
And rest a space.
The great tree, the little brook —
Kind hosts were they;
Think you she thought of them
At end of day,
When from the inn's closed door
She turned away?
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