Edwin Markham: The Invisible Bride

The Invisible Bride

Edwin Markham

The low-voiced girls that go  In gardens of the Lord, Like flowers of the field they grow  In sisterly accord.
Their whispering feet are white  Along the leafy ways; They go in whirls of light  Too beautiful for praise.
And in their band forsooth  Is one to set me free — The one that touched my youth —  The one God gave to me.
She kindles the desire  Whereby the gods survive — The white ideal fire  That keeps my soul alive.
Now at the wondrous hour,  She leaves her star supreme, And comes in the night's still power,  To touch me with a dream.
Sibyl of mystery  On roads unknown to men, Softly she comes to me,  And goes to God again.