During the years of his captivity Under that wanton hand at Cæsarea, Paul's sister, with her Stephen, brought their home Thither, and there abode, for love of Paul; That they might minister to him, and be Ministered to by him in overflow Of his far more exceeding rich reward. Thither came also others of the Way, Drawn by like love, to serve the same desire.
Of these was martyr Stephen's widow, Ruth, A stately lady, with the matron's crown Of glory in her wealth of silver hair, And with the invisible pure aureole Of living saintship radiant round her brow. With her, a daughter, left to Ruth alone Among her children--wedded all beside. Her youngest-born, and fairest, was this one, Eunicé named; a gift from God to Ruth After her husband's martyrdom bestowed. Euníce bore her father's image, lined Softer with girlhood and with yielding youth, Both in her features and her character. The light that in her lovely countenance Shone lovelier, was not playful, did not flash, But sat there tempered to an equal beam, Selené-like, that one might look upon, From far or near, dwelling however long, With sense of rest and healing to the eye; You seemed to gaze upon the evening star In sole possession of a twilight sky. It was as if the father's zeal intense-- Which, kindling on his way to martyrdom, Shone into brightness dazzling like the sun-- Descended to the daughter, were suffused So, and so qualified, with woman's love, That it undazzling like the moon became. Eunicé, such in queenly womanhood, Already to young Stephen was betrothed; They waited only till the years should bring Full ripeness, with meet circumstance, to wed.
Mary of Magdala kinswoman was To Ruth. She, long afflicted, from before Her marriageable season, with the haunt In her of evil spirits vagabond From the abyss, had, then to woman grown, Met Jesus in His rounds of doing good And been by Him delivered from her woe. Seven demons, at His word, went forth from her, Foul inmates of a mansion passing fair. Mary to her Divine Deliverer gave Her life thenceforth one long oblation up. With other women, like herself in love Of Him, she followed that Immanuel Whithersoever He went about the world, And of her treasure lavished on His need. She stood bewailing when they crucified Her Lord, and, after, at His sepulcher The earliest, ere the breaking of the morn, Saw two fair-shining angels clothed in white, One at the head, the other at the feet, Sit where the body of the Lord had lain. These talked with Mary, who then turning saw, But knew not, Jesus, face to face with her. But Jesus to the weeping woman said: "Mary!" and, in the hearing of her name, She forthwith knew the voice that uttered it. In her delight of love, she would have touched His person, to assure still more her mind, Save that again that voice, forestalling, gave Enough assurance for such faith as hers. Mary refrained her hand, but full well knew No fleeting phantom, no dissolving show, No spirit only, angel of the dead, Stood there before her in the form of Him; But her Lord Christ Himself, His flesh and blood.