Classic Poem

“My spotless Lamb, Who can better all,”
quoth she, “my Destiny so dear,
chose me His bride, though all unfit
the Spousal might a while well seem.
When I went forth from your wet world,
He call'd me to His Goodliness:—
‘Come hither to Me, My truelove sweet,
for stain or spot is none in thee.
He gave me strength and beauty too;
in His blood on the Throne He wash'd my weeds;
and, crowned clean in maidenhood,
with spotless pearls He me beset.”