'I bring Thee balm, and, lo, Thou art not here!
Twice have I poured mine ointment on Thy brow,
And washed Thy feet with tears. Disdain'st Thou now
The spikenard and the myrrh?
Has Death, alas, betrayed Thee with a kiss
That seals Thee from the memory of mine?'
'Mary!' It is the self-same Voice Divine.
'Rabboni!'-only this.