Rise, said the Master, come unto the feast:--
She heard the call, and rose with willing feet;
But thinking it not otherwise than meet
For such a bidding to put on her best,
She is gone from us for a few short hours
Into her bridal--closet, there to wait
For the unfolding of the palace--gate,
That gives her entrance to the blissful bowers.
We have not seen her yet, though we have been
Full often to her chamber--door, and oft
Have listened underneath the postern green,
And laid fresh flowers, and whispered short and soft;
But she hath made no answer, and the day
From the clear west is fading fast away.