MAIDS, carry her forth—your dead, Your pale young queen; Two at her feet, two at her head, And four between.— Not as we wanted it, But as God granted it. Not now to the swinging chime, To the organ swell, Keep we the rank, treading in time— But one dull bell. Open the gates for her! The Bridegroom waits for her. We never had dreamed it so: But she—she knew; Walking aloof, placid of brow, Her short life through: Scornful, in surety Guarding her purity. Buds born for the bridal path Cover her breast: Babes of the dream now that she hath Sleep in her rest. Our peace above her let Fall for her coverlet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KEARSARGE (1894) by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE COUNTER-ATTACK by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE MAID OF NEIDPATH by WALTER SCOTT I HAVE A GARMENT by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA DEAD IN HIS BED by ADDIE LUCIA BALLOU PSALM 129 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE FIRST SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |