Chapter 58 CHAPTER XXVII.

THE VIRGIN MARY.

"A weary weed, tossed to and fro,

Drearily drenched in the ocean brine,

Soaring high and sinking low,

Lashed along without will of mine;

Sport of the spoom of the surging sea;

Flung on the foam, afar and near,

Mark my manifold mystery––

Growth and grace in their place appear."

With the boy clasped to his