Poems (Taylor)/The Waiting Angel

by Rachel Annand Taylor

THE WAITING ANGEL

We are leaning through the rosesMid the thrill of the sweet closes Of our tender violing.Up and down, up and downAll the ways of our dream-town,   Round a dragon-crested King,Ride the noble knights of old,All in azure, green, and gold.We two cast them our dream-rosesMid the sweetness of the closes Of our tender violing.

But I know, behind the star-litDusk of emerald, a scarlet  Strange Archangel brooding stands.Waiting still, waiting still,Gazing with a mournful will At the sword within his hands.Through the delicate green lightWinds the Pomp of our delight:But I know behind the star-litDusk of emerald, a scarlet Angel lifts his armed hands.

But when all the stars are weeping,When my Well-beloved lies sleeping Softly I shall rise and go.I shall wrestle with that dreadAngel of the bended head. "Death! Oh Death! Thy name I know.Mock me not that I am frail. I am Love: I must prevailHere, where all the stars are weeping."When the Well-Beloved lies sleeping, Surely I shall rise and go.