A sound of chanting had burst forth; the voices in the procession no
longer called for the healing of the sick, now that the /cortege/ had
extricated itself from amidst the crowd. The miracle had been worked, and
they were celebrating it with the full power of their lungs, amidst the
pealing of the bells and the quivering gaiety of the atmosphere.
"/Magnificat anima mea Dominum/"--they began. "My soul doth magnify the
Lord."
'Twas the song of gratitude, already chanted at the Grotto, and again
springing from every heart: "/Et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari
meo/." "And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour."
Meantime it was with increasing, overflowing joy that Marie took part in
that radiant ascent, by the colossal gradient way, towards the glowing
Basilica. It seemed to her, as she continued climbing, that she was
growing stronger and stronger, that her legs, so long lifeless, became
firmer at each step. The little car which she victoriously dragged behind
her was like the earthly tenement of her illness, the /inferno/ whence
the Blessed Virgin had extricated her, and although its handle was making
her hands sore, she nevertheless wished to pull it up yonder with her, in
order that she might cast it at last at the feet of the Almighty.
Pages:
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129