The Marriage of the King
"My heart is stirred by a noble theme
As I recite my verses for the king;
My tongue is the pen of a skillful writer."*
This earth-defining beauty in the sun's
Bright golden diadem of light, and this,
The fair beam from the face of Lady Moon,
Whereas she smiles upon her realm of night,
As angels and the faeries of old myth
Dance with the stars to celebrate, rejoice
For the coming of their King, with honeyed voice:
This is the feast of marriage, for the bride and Bridegroom.
Behold, they come quickly, she who is more
Radiant than the moon, with a pure and holy glow,
Shining in her milk-white robes, her wounds now healed,
And he, still brighter than the sun,
Coming with a consuming fire and a tender wrath,
But his wounds still remain.
The men of old are gathered here this eve:
Prophets with a blaze within their eyes are here to praise
This union; most reverent priests burn the
Fragrant incense of a passionate love;
Kings from nations far and near pay homage
To this, the King of kings and his most lovely queen.
The nations are gathered; the judgment and wrath
Has passed, and we all now rejoice for the day
Of this most holy union of the mortal and immortal,
The tragic loveliness of a joyful Man of sorrows
And the purity of a harlot now made His chosen bride.