God of the magic of morn, Crimsoning thorn Crowns him! Oh, hark to his cry: "Sabachthani?" God of the laughter and tear, That is a spear Stained with the red drops that start Under his heart! God of the glamour and gloom, Into the tomb Low is he laid; see, a stone Leaves me alone! God of the lily and vine, Is he not mine? Balms for his body I bear, Myrrh for his hair. Love! who rolled the stone away? Bright as the day, Shineth thy brow, and thy face Gleams with a grace Caught from the whispering wings Of One who sings: "There is no death!" Lo, the tomb Breaks into bloom! God of a woman's wide love, Under, above, Over the earth there is light Sprung from the night; Now is the heart of me filled, Soul of me stilled; Glad of Thy shepherding care, Answering prayer! FOEMAN I stand With drawn sword in my hand To face You for a space-- You! You! Comrade, can this be true That I Must yield or die? Those eyes, Gray like November skies, I feel Sharper than steel.... One word Before sword clash on sword And stern Wrath in us burn Recall The swift footfall And mirth, When the awakened earth Grew glad Of what we had-- Love, life, Not this tremendous strife. Rose-red Petals were shed With bloom Of lilies in that room, Where we Stood silently And heard Heart-music stirred On chords By minstrel Lords Whose wings Moved to the strings. Why--why Dared we to try, To prove Our love? Wrong! Wrong! When we knew song And light And spirit-might. So now With paling brow And set Hard lips, we two are met To kill! Ah, would your will Make mine As grapes bruised for the wine? Seek you To run me through? I take My sword and break The blade-- Strike! I have made Of it a cross, Counting that loss Which holds Me from your garment-folds: The sign Proves me forever thine; Proves that I give Self that our love may live! GERAINT Open, dear Lady, the little red door-- The little red door to me! Night is all cold and my feet are sore; I have made a long journey. Leagues have I travelled, the mountains crossed Eager for love of thee; Lady, I fear that thy love is lost: Open thy heart to me! Open thy heart and I will go in The red door silently; There I shall find what I seek to win, Dear Lady, thy love for me! GRIEF My heart is pain, My spirit dearth; Tears are the rain Upon the earth: And all the over-clouded sky Is not more darkened than am I. A while ago I watched the snow, And laughed to see Its witchery; Now that your face is turned away, Winter's white magic melts from day. The casement wide, This wan Yuletide, I opened--heard One little bird A-piping on a crystalled bough, But he will pipe no longer now;