Song of the Soul and Its Bridegroom

O MY love, where art Thou hiding ?
Why hast Thou forsaken me ?
Thou hast left me to my sorrow,
To bewail my loss of Thee.
Thou hast wounded me and swiftly
As the hart hast fled away.
I pursued Thee, crying loudly,
Thou wert gone, and wouldest not stay.

O ye shepherds, I entreat you,
As you wend your watchful way,
To the hill, amid the sheepcots
Every night and every day,
Tell my love, if you shall see him,
Of the state in which I lie,
Of my longing, and in longing
That I languish, pine, and die.

In my quest of Him no mountains,
Nor wide plains shall me delay ;
I will never stoop to gather
Even a flower on the way.
I will cross the frontiers boldly,
Nor shall giants hold me back,
And if savage beasts surround me
I shall dread not their attack.
O ye trees of trackless forests,
And ye thickets of the land ;
Shade and shelter for the weary,
Planted by His loving hand.
O ye meadows, fresh and verdant,
Pictures of the land above,
Decked with flowers bright and fragrant
Tell me, have you seen my Love ?
THE CREATURES ANSWER
We have seen Him ! we have seen Him !
O ! the beauty of His face !
Moving through the groves, and pouring
Down the treasures of His grace.
Hastening on, He looked upon them —
O ! that look ! how full of love—
And the groves became more lovely
With a beauty from above.
THE BRIDE
I am wounded ; who can heal me ?
Sorrow-laden, lone, and sad ;
Longing for Thy wonted presence,
That alone can make me glad.
Come Thyself, and do not tarry ;
Send no messengers to me ;
They are powerless to tell me
Aught that I would know of Thee.
All who serve Thee — men and angels —
Each in his determined place
Speak to me, with voice unceasing,
Of Thy comeliness and grace.
They but make my wound still greater,
There is that beyond my reach
And leaves me dead ; what I know not,
For they stammer in their speech.

O my life, how thou persistest
In continuing the strife,
For by living on thou livest
Where is not thy real life.
All thou knowest of thy Lover
Are as arrows in thy heart
Sent to slay thee ; then how is it
Thou abidest as thou art ?

My Beloved, Thou hast planted
In my heart the darts of love ;
Why dost Thou refuse to heal it
With the unction from above ?
Now that Thou hast robbed me of it —
I in desolation left —
Why hast Thou not taken it with Thee
And thus perfected the theft ?

Tribulations overwhelm me
By anxieties oppressed ;
Thou alone canst free me from them,
Therefore give me peace and rest.
Let mine eyes then look upon Thee,
For it is by Thee they see ;
They are Thine, and Thou hast made them,
I will keep them all for Thee.

O that Thou the clouds would'st scatter
That between us darkly lie,
Show Thy face, and in the beauty
Of the vision let me die.
For the beatific vision
That makes glad the saints above,
Is the only perfect healing
Of the malady of love.

Crystal spring of limpid waters
Unexhausted in its flow ;

that on thy silvered surface,
As a mirror, Thou would'st show
Unto me those eyes so lovely,
And which I so long to see,
For their image is already
Outlined on my heart from Thee.

My Beloved, look not at me
With those eyes so full of love ;

am flying, overpowered.
THE BRIDEGROOM
O return to me, my dove ;
On the hill the hart is looming,
And the arrow to it clings
In the air refreshed that stirreth
By the motion of thy wings.
THE BRIDE

My Beloved is the mountains —
They reveal Him unto me —
And the lonely wooded valleys
With the islands of the sea,
Strange and lovely ; and the murmur
Of the waters as they flow,
And the sweet entrancing whisper
Of the winds that softly blow.

My Beloved is the silent
Tranquil night before the morn ;
Ere the ruddy dawn approaches
And another day is born.
He is music that is soundless ;
In the wilderness a voice,
And the supper that refresheth
Making hearts that love rejoice.

1 6 Who will catch for us the foxes
That so cunningly repair
To the vineyard Thou hast planted,
Now so fruitful and so fair ?
While we move among the flowers
And our hands with roses fill,
For the making of a garland
Let none appear on the hill.

Chilling north wind, from thy caverns
Send no more the blasts that kill ;
Come thou south wind, love enkindling,
And the air with odours fill.
There among the fragrant flowers
My Beloved will abide,
And will feed among the lilies
In the garden of His bride.
1 8 Now the rose trees and the flowers
Bloom and blossom in their beds,
And around the fragrant amber
Its delicious perfume sheds.
Nymphs of Juda come not nigh us,
In the suburbs still remain;
That ye may not touch the threshold
Of our house, your feet restrain.

Hide Thyself, then, my Beloved,
And let none Thy presence trace,
Keep for me alone the secret;
To the mountains turn Thy face;
But with loving eyes regarding,
Look on those who wait on me
On my way among the islands
Of a strange and stormy sea.
THE BRIDEGROOM

Cruel lions of the forest,
Crouching in their secret lair;
Fawns and does so wild and restless,
And all the birds of the air.
Nightly terrors that alarm us,
Gloomy valleys, lowly plain,
Burning heat and lofty mountains,
Howling winds and driving rain.

By the music of the viols,
By the siren's soothing strain,
I adjure you and command you
From your fury to refrain.
Cease your clamours, come not nigh us,
At a distance still abide,
And occasion no disturbance
Of the slumbers of the bride.

Now the garden sheds its perfume,
For the winter's cold is past,
And the bride in all her beauty
Has come into it at last.
There, content among the lilies,
In the everlasting arms,
She is tranquilly reposing,
Henceforth free from all alarms.

When I saw thee wan and weary,
Underneath the apple tree ;
I held out My hand in pity,
And betrothed Me unto thee.
When thy mother deluded fell,
In the snare the traitor laid,
There the price of thy redemption,
In My bitter death was paid.
THE BRIDE

Dens of lions are the fences
That protect the bridal bed
Hung with purple : fragrant flowers
All around their perfume shed.
It was wrought in peace and quiet,
Who will touch it ? None so bold,
For its manifold adornments
Are a thousand shields of gold.

They are running in Thy footsteps,
On the road which Thou didst tread
In the odour of the ointment
That was poured upon Thy head.
The burning fire now has touched them
And the inner furnace glows ;
And the strengthening wine is tasted,
While the heavenly balsam flows.

My Beloved gently led me
By the hand, O love divine !
Placed me in the inner cellar
Where I drank the wondrous wine.
Coming forth I wandered lonely
O'er the plain, and knew no more,
Having lost the flock I followed
In the days that went before.

He embraced me there and taught me
Sitting humbly at His feet,
Wondrous secrets of His wisdom :
And the learning is so sweet.
There I also made a promise
I would be His faithful bride,
True and constant; by that promise
I will stedfastly abide.

My Beloved is my Bridegroom
And my Lord — O what a joy !
I will henceforth all the powers
Of my soul for Him employ.
And the flock that once I tended,
Now I tend not as before,
For my only occupation
Is to love Him more and more.

I have gone away for ever
From the haunts of idle men,
And a sharer in their follies
I will never be again.
They may say, and say it loudly,
I am lost ; but I am not ;
I was found by my Beloved,
O how blessed is my lot !

We will go in early morning
While the dew is on the ground,
To the garden where the flowers
In their beauty may be found ;
And will make a garland of them
In which emeralds shall shine
Knit and bound and held together
By a single hair of mine.

By that single hair that fluttered
On my neck and seen by Thee —
Thou did'st look again upon it
And wert by it drawn to me.
Thou wert made a willing captive,
Weak and slender though it be,
And I dared to look upon Thee,
And in looking wounded Thee.

While on me Thine eyes were resting,
Full of sweet and gracious love,
They impressed on me their beauty ;
Heavenly beauty from above.
Then Thy love flowed in upon me
And mine eyes obtained the grace
What they saw in Thee to worship,
O the beauty of Thy face.

I was once unclean and swarthy,
In a miserable plight ;
Yet I pray Thee not to spurn me,
Or to cast me from Thy sight.
Of my former degradation,
There remaineth not a trace,
For Thine eyes have rested on me,
Shedding comeliness and grace.
THE BRIDEGROOM

The little dove, white and stainless,
Wings her way, returning now,
To the ark of safety, bearing
In her mouth the olive bough.
Now her melancholy cooings
Will the turtle dove abate,
On the verdant banks rejoicing
In the presence of her mate.

Now the little dove was living
In her solitude at rest ;
For in solitude, contented,
She had built herself her nest.
The Beloved had been leading
Into solitude the dove,
And in solitude was wounded
With the arrows of her love.
THE BRIDE

In our common love rejoicing,
My Beloved, let us go
To the summit of the mountain
Whence the limpid waters flow.
To the hill of contemplation,
There each other to behold
In Thy beauty : — Let us enter
Into mysteries untold.

We will go at once together,
My Beloved and His bride,
To the dark and secret caverns
Of the rock, and there to hide.
Into those mysterious caverns
Where no .earthly light can shine,
We will enter — there in secret
We will taste the heavenly wine.

For within those secret caverns
Thou Thyself wilt shew to me,
That which I am always longing
In my inmost heart to see.
In the innermost recesses
Of the caverns Thou wilt give,
What the other day Thou gavest,
O my life ; in Thee I live.

I shall breathe the air that quickeneth,
And the nightingale shall sing ;
In my raptured ear, the music
Of her voice shall sweetly ring ;
Pleasant grove and all its beauty,
With the marvels it contains,
In the night ; with the fire burning
That consumes and never pains.

I went in with my Beloved,
Seen by no created eye,
Nor with all his strength and cunning
Durst Aminadabad come nigh.
Then the siege was intermitted,
Then abandoned by the foe ;
And the cavalry dismounted
When it saw the waters flow.