(Sonnet, spoken in the person of the High Priest)
Fair How'n of Jesse's royal stem, the pride, The joy of Judah, glory of they race! What mystic cloud flits o'er they pensive face, That prompts thee doubt, thy treasure chaste confide, To him, who's come, to seek thee, for his bride? For he, by Heaven ordained, to be thy spouse, From Angels' lips shall learn thy sacred vows; And shelt'ring, from all rude approach, shall hide Thee 'neath thy marriage weil, -- until what time, Th' Almighty's Love Substantial warned withal, His light shall on thy hallow'd farm have shined, And in the shadow, 'gainst that Ray sublime, The Fruit Divine shall grow, and ripen'd fall, That endless life shall give to all mankind.
Die Desponsations B.V.M. 1911.