Classic Poem

PART II.

The Bride .

I laid me down my rest to take;
I slept, yet was my heart awake:
A voice salutes my waking ear,
One knocking at the door I hear.
My love, it seems, was pleas'd to wait,
Calling and knocking at the gate:
" My sister, loud he cry'd, my love,
" My fair, my chast, my spotless dove;
" Be kind, as I to you have been,
" Unlock the door, and let me in:
" With trickling dew my head is fill'd,
" My locks with drops by night distill'd.
My garments I have laid aside,
How shall I dress me? I reply'd:
I've lately wash'd my feet, and how,
My dear, shall I defile 'em now?
Unkindly thus I let him stand,
Till thro' the door he thrust his hand;
At last my heart began to move
With all the tender thoughts of love.
I rose: ah that I rose so late!
I had no sooner touch'd the gate,
My hands with drops of myrrh were fill'd,
My fingers sweetest myrrh distill'd;
The handles of the lock I found
With dropping myrrh perfum'd around.
I open'd to my love the door,
O that I'ad open'd it before!
For now alas! my love was gone,
Was gone! and I left all alone!
My soul was ready to expire
With fear, with sorrow, with desire.
When his kind words I call'd to mind,
I thought how I had been unkind!
I sought him, but I sought in vain;
I call'd, but could no answer gain.
I found not him; but I was found
By guards that walk the city round:
These treated me with wounds and blows,
And aggravated all my woes:
The watch that guard the walls by night,
E'en took away my veil in spight.
O daughters of Jerusalem,
(Fair offspring of a noble stem)
You I most solemnly adjure,
Whene'er you find my love, be sure
With my complaints his pity move,
And tell him I am sick of love.