The Messenger and the Maid
Seated, the great King, paused, turned, and called
A palace page to his side: Send for him now
The messenger they call my strongman
~
The fleeting word flew, intense, down gold-clad corridors:
Strongman! - strongman! - strongman
That all empalaced knew who and whom now called and was called
~
This messenger from his wait arose, for his Master’s bidding
Calm in readiness, in bejewelled jerkin by gold thread glistening
Diamonded-hilt sword piercing sharp at his side
~
My Lord, for me thou did send, for thee I do come
He knelt, just one knee, head-bowed down, awesome and yet awed
The vast chasm by uncommon honour bridged
~
Come here, and hark, what I will that you would now do
The messenger ‘rose, came closer, yet closer
‘Till the lips of his Lord bare touched his lobed ear
~
In my land (that far land) in a village, a child there rests
By a humble name of Nazra’et, her noble Maryam
A child of gilded innocence, in guilty ground is to be found
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Go thou - now! - and speak with her
But secretly and in disguise
That none from high palace or in lowest land may yet know
~
Then tell her that my wish is for her as mine own
- if it were also her’s too - and be espoused
And to know one another - she is my sole choice
~
So he left, translated ‘cross th’ long disputed land
Cloaked in hodden, hidden from eyes sharp, watching
Until, in time, he reached her heralded home
~
Entering, she saw him, and see - a gasp! -
From the messenger who now beheld yirded perfection in simplest purity
A maid in innocence aware, yet in royal strength becoming
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My Lady, the King has sent me, to ask of you,
One favour, a gentle request, of his mild servant maid
For her royal servant King
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WIll you deign take his hand in your own right
And enter his glory with such meekness
And consent?; regally I was sent, and stoop for your assent
~
A pause, as hushed night passed in star-stippled passage
Her warm breasted heart beating its music-wombed sweetness:
I shall go, for it is so, he must to me come
~
Tell him: this my decision, though in pain do I fear
Few will fully understand, accept, or acknowledge
Yet, aye, I do know: that I was born to bear in
His breathtaking beautiful Boy.