Pregnant Woman
A pregnant woman, alone beside the River Findhorn, imagines herself to be the Virgin Mary
Water stained brown with peat and strung with chains
Of foam from the tumultuous falls behind her;
Beeches in autumn glory all around her;
The tawny lichens where the warmth remains -
She came here day by day to sit and dream,
The more intently for her ignorance
Of whether fortune, or unfortunate mischance,
Drew her thus from her home to seek the stream.
About her a strange joy began to hover.
Father long lost, between husband and lover -
The sunlight seemed to toy with shape, and gather:
As if all-loving God, by special favour,
Had called her by His grace, which faileth never,
To bear this child and not know the father.
Page(s) 17
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