Jairus’ Daughter

Love, facing round by Jairus’s mansion, said
   To the twelve-years’ afflicted matron “Your
   Faith healed your wounds; depart in peace” before, 
To the death-chamber of the maiden led,
He asked the women, praying by her bed,
   Who came to meet Him when He crossed the door,
   With blazing eyes exclaiming “There’s no more
Hope! It’s too late!” “Why weep ye? She’s not dead,
But sleepeth.”  Then, from their sad mockery,
   He went to where the maid lay silent and
   Breathless in slumber, cased her cooling hand
And, whispering low – “Talitha” – and – “cumì” –
   Raised, as the matron, healed by favor of
   Her faith, the maid: raised by the faith of Love.

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