The Heart of Mary, by Sheldon Vanauken (1914-1996). Dear sister, I was not divine, The angel left me woman as before, And when, like flame beneath my heart, I bore The Son, I was vestal and the shrine. My arms held Heaven at my breast—not wine But milk made blood, in which no mothering doubt Prefigured patterns of the pouring out, O Lamb! to stain the world incarnadine. The Magi saw a crown that lay ahead, But not the bitter... Read more