St. Luke Painting the Virgin: A Picture by Van der Weyden
It was Luke's will: and she, the Mother-Maid,
Would not gainsay; to please him pleased her best.
See, here she sits, with dovelike heart at rest,
Brooding, and smoothest brow; the Babe is laid
On lap and arm, glad for the unarrayed
And swatheless limbs he stretches. Lightly pressed
By soft maternal fingers, the full breast
Seeks him, while half a sidelong glance is stayed
By her own bosom, and half passes down
To reach the Boy. Through door and window-frame
Bright airs flow in; a river tranquilly
Washes the small, glad Netherlandish town.
Innocent calm: no token here of shame,
A pierced heart, sunless heaven, and Calvary.
Would not gainsay; to please him pleased her best.
See, here she sits, with dovelike heart at rest,
Brooding, and smoothest brow; the Babe is laid
On lap and arm, glad for the unarrayed
And swatheless limbs he stretches. Lightly pressed
By soft maternal fingers, the full breast
Seeks him, while half a sidelong glance is stayed
By her own bosom, and half passes down
To reach the Boy. Through door and window-frame
Bright airs flow in; a river tranquilly
Washes the small, glad Netherlandish town.
Innocent calm: no token here of shame,
A pierced heart, sunless heaven, and Calvary.
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