Page:Love Poems and Others.djvu/13

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WEDDING MORN

The morning breaks like a pomegranate
  In a shining crack of red,
Ah, when to-morrow the dawn comes late
  Whitening across the bed,
It will find me watching at the marriage gate
  And waiting while light is shed
On him who is sleeping satiate,
  With a sunk, abandoned head.

And when the dawn comes creeping in,
  Cautiously I shall raise
Myself to watch the morning win
  My first of days,
As it shows him sleeping a sleep he got
  Of me, as under my gaze,
He grows distinct, and I see his hot
  Face freed of the wavering blaze.

Then I shall know which image of God
  My man is made toward,
And I shall know my bitter rod
  Or my rich reward.
And I shall know the stamp and worth
  Of the coin I’ve accepted as mine,
Shall see an image of heaven or of earth
  On his minted metal shine.

Yea and I long to see him sleep
  In my power utterly,

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