The bread is mine
Unmixed with leaven
And the purple wine
Of the Vines of Heaven;
I have asked to see
If my love shall be
At the Throne of Three
With the splendid Seven.

To a blinding car
Four living creatures
Enhamessed are,
Whence One whose features
Outshone the skies
At noon, replies
With her burning eyes—
The eternal teachers—

“Thy love is a sword
In the heart of slaughter,
Thy love is a word
Of the high-king’s daughter,
A song that is sung
In a mystic tongue,
A fountain sprung
From the Living Water.

“And thy love shall stand
In the courts of splendour
At the King’s left hand,
Where she shall render
The gifts of Love
To the throne above,
And a shining dove
Shall there attend her.

“For thy love is a sign
In the Book of Wonder,
A mark divine
On the seals of thunder
That Spirit’s light
And the Water’s might
And the Blood, red-bright
Have witnessed under.”