"O Pearl unblemished, in pure pearls dressed, That beareth," said I, "the pearl of price, Who formed thy figure-and thy vest? Truly he wrought with cunning nice; For thy beauty, above nature's best, Passeth Pygmalion's artifice; Nor Aristotle the lore possessed To depict in words so fair device. Than fleur-de-lys thou art fairer thrice, Angel-mannered and courtly bred,-- Tell to me truly: in Paradise What meaneth the pearl unblemished?" "My spotless Lamb, who all doth heal," She answered, "my dear Destiny, Chose me in marriage bond to seal; Unfit, He graced me regally, From your world's woe come into weal. He called me of His courtesy: 'Come hither to me, my lover leal, For mote nor spot is none in thee.' He gave me my might and great beauty; He washed my weeds in His blood so red, And crowned me, forever clean to be, And clothed me in pearls unblemishèd." "Unblemished bride, bright to behold, That royalty hath so rich and rare, What is this Lamb, that thou hast told How for wedded wife He called thee there? Above all others dost thou make bold, As His chosen lady His life to share? So many, comely in combs of gold, For Christ have lived in strife and care, Must these to a lower place repair, That never any with Him may wed, Save only thyself, so proud and fair, Peerless Queen, and unblemished?" XIV "Unblemished," answered she again, "Without a spot of black or gray, With honour may I this maintain; But 'peerless Queen' I did not say. Brides of the Lamb in bliss we reign, An hundred and forty thousand gay, As in the Apocalypse is made plain, Saint John beheld them on a day; On the hill of Zion he saw them stay, In vision his spirit looked on them, For the wedding clad in bright-array, At the city of New Jerusalem." "Of Jerusalem in speech I tell; And what He is if thou wouldst see-- My Lamb, my Lord, my dear Jewel, My Joy, my Love, my Bliss so free,-- The prophet Isaiah writeth well Of His most mild humility: 'Guiltless, when men upon Him fell For never a fault nor felony, As a sheep to the slaughter led was He; Quiet, the while the crowd contemn, As a lamb in the shearer's hands might be, He was judged by Jews in Jerusalem.'" "In Jerusalem was my Lover slain, Rent on the rood by ruffians bold; To bear our ills He was full fain, To suffer our sorrows manifold; Buffeted until blood did stain That face so lovely to behold; He took upon Him all sin and pain, Even He of Whom not one sin is told; On the rude cross stretched faint and cold, He let men deride him and condemn; Meek as a lamb, betrayed and sold, He died for us in Jerusalem."