| ‘LEAVE the romance before the end; | |
| Leave the late roses to their fall; | |
| Dismiss the nurselings thou dost tend; | |
| I hear another, closer call. | |
| ’Tis I, thy Guardian, give thee word, | 5 |
| Thy Bridegroom seeketh thee, O sweet! | |
| Thy Bridegroom comes,—His step I heard— | |
| Within thy chamber thee to meet.’ | |
| |
| ‘Another day, another time! | |
| ’Tis pleasant in the outer room; | 10 |
| I love the airy summer clime, | |
| And not the inner chamber’s gloom. | |
| And this year’s roses will not come | |
| Again; but betwixt us the bond | |
| Is fixed, and fast, and wearisome; | 15 |
| For one is fickle, one is fond.’ | |
| |
| ‘Come to thy chamber, for He stands | |
| Tearful, and seeking only thee; | |
| With ravished eyes, and outstretched hands, | |
| And He commands resistlessly. | 20 |
| Come to thy chamber, though it be | |
| Narrow, and dark, and full of pain; | |
| He paid a heavy price for thee, | |
| And can He let thee go again?’ | |
| |
| ‘My Bridegroom’s bed is cold and hard, | 25 |
| My Bridegroom’s kiss is ice and fire, | |
| My Bridegroom’s clasp is iron-barred, | |
| I am consumed in His desire: | |
| My Bridegroom’s touch is as a sword | |
| That pierces every nerve and limb; | 30 |
| “Depart from me,” I moan, “O Lord!” | |
| All the night long I spend with Him.’ | |
| |
| ‘Oh! heart of woman holdeth not | |
| The passion of His love for thee; | |
| He sees thee perfect, without spot, | 35 |
| Crowned with celestial jewelry. | |
| The doors of Heaven could not hold | |
| His feet from hasting to thy side; | |
| The ardours of the Suns are cold | |
| To His for thee, His hard-won bride.’ | 40 |
| |
| ‘Rather am I His bondmaiden, | |
| Compelled by law and not by love. | |
| Oh, would I were enfranchised; then | |
| With wings of silver, like a dove— | |
| Then would I flee, past heaven’s far bound, | 45 |
| The unendurable embrace; | |
| Then would I hide in earth’s profound | |
| From the strange terror of His Face!’ | |
| |
| ‘Enter, to keep thy Bridegroom’s tryst! | |
| Liking or loth I thee have led: | 50 |
| He is thine own, albeit He wist | |
| That thy half-hearted love was dead. | |
| What though His Bride with Him must share | |
| A couch of thorns without repose? | |
| Thousands this moment death would dare | 55 |
| To know one word of all she knows.’ | |
| |
| ‘I pine, on haunted hills to muse, | |
| To face the open sunrise skies; | |
| I pine for friends that I might choose; | |
| I pine for little children’s eyes; | 60 |
| For free and fearless limbs—to move | |
| Breasting the wave, breasting the breeze: | |
| But jealous love is cruel love, | |
| And He denies me all of these.’ | |
| |
| ‘Child, take thy roses, take thy toys, | 65 |
| Take back thy life and liberty; | |
| Thy days shall flow in simple joys, | |
| And undisturbed thy nights shall be. | |
| Thy Bridegroom does thee no more wrong, | |
| Poor child, the victim of His Heart: | 70 |
| Look but on Him once more,—one long | |
| Last look, and then from Him depart. | |
| |
| ‘Farewell—one look. But oh! this lone | |
| Bare desert, where I might be free! | |
| Thy Face I see—Thy Face, my own, | 75 |
| And naught in heaven or earth but Thee! | |
| But O my Lord, my Life, my Love, | |
| Thou knowest all my weakness best; | |
| Take back into the ark Thy dove, | |
| And comfort me upon Thy breast!’ | 80 |
