The Bride

Extract

‘I am waiting “for the evening”,’ said the Bride,

‘When the reaping shall be done and the sheaves every one, Stacked apart and harvested from the Acres of the Dead, When im sweet and starred array I go on my way,

On my way to meet my Lover,’ said the Bride.

‘Shall it be that He comes,’ asked the Bride,

‘In His living diadem, with the moon as a gem,

Robed with the sunlight and cloaked with the rain,

With His glorious gold Head, and His Hands torn and red, And His Side wounded wide? ‘said the Bride.

‘With) the treasure of my wheat and white pearls for my feet— And wine-stones and opals for my crown,

How fleet my heart shall beat as I hasten forth to meet

My Lord and my Lover who steps down

From; His Everlasting Throne, and claims me His own,

In His Kingdom to rest and to abide ....

For at moonrise shall I come and mine enemies be dumb That He stands me at His side,’ said the Bride.

‘I have praise of harp and pen but my home is not with men, I have trod where my God was denied—

Red lilies of the martyrs and the prophets of my days,

Moon; of guidance in the night—these my children! gave me praise;

My lands they are wide—where my Love lived and died, Slept within His Sepulchre, veiled in shrouds and wrapped with myrrh,

And then rose to the Height, spanned with splendour, throned in light,

From our sight, and enskied—

O then, come to me soon—Lord and King, Sun and Moon! ‘cried the Bride.

Vivienne, M. Dayrell.