Poems (Greenwell)/The Soul's Wooers
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."