C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Edith (Nesbit) Bland (18581924)
Ballad of a Bridal
“O
Of red wine and of white,
And, maidens mine, my bower prepare:
It is my wedding night!
And make me fair and fine:
The day has dawned that brings the hour
When my desire is mine!”
With rushes strewed the floor;
And sewed more jewels on her gown
Than ever she wore before.
Two jewels in her e’en;
Her hair was crowned with sunset rays,
Her brows shone white between.
“Two tapers at the head!”
(It seemed more like the bed of death
Than like a bridal bed.)
He kissed her on the face:
“There is more heaven in thy kiss
Than in Our Lady’s grace!”
He kissed her three times o’er,
He kissed her brow, he kissed her eyes,
He kissed her mouth’s red flower.
I sicken and I pine:
Is it the red wine or the white,
Or that sweet kiss of thine?”
Can make such sickness be:
Lie down and die on thy bride-bed,
For I have poisoned thee!
Be for the deed on me,
I would it were to do again,
Since thou wert false to me!
Nor she nor I loved twain;
But we are twain thou hast undone
And therefore art thou slain.
With no base flesh between,
I shall hold up my guilty hand,
And he shall judge it clean!”
Between the tapers pale.
“I first shall see our God,” he said,
“And I will tell thy tale:
Then art thou justified;
I love thee, and I was not true,
And that was why I died.
First of the saints on high;
But ah, I fear God loveth thee
Not half so dear as I!”