Poems (Greenwell)/The Soul's Wooers

Poems
by Dora Greenwell
The Soul's Wooers
4521755Poems — The Soul's WooersDora Greenwell
THE SOUL'S WOOERS.


Like Captive Judah, underneath the Tree
She sat alone and silent on the ground;
While from the valley rising, came the sound
Of music and of dancing, gay and free,—
But none did bid her to that company;
Till lifting up her heavy lids, she found
One standing by her, winged, and rosy crowned
And robed within the purple: "Rise, for thee
(He said, and kissed her on the brow elate)
The Ruler of the Feast hath kept till now
The richest wine;" but as she marvelled, drew
Another near, that whispered to her, "Wait;
Not of this vintage shalt thou taste till thou
Shalt drink it with me in my Kingdom new."