-WHY wilt thou cast the roses from thine hair?
Nay, be thou all a rose,-wreath, lips, and cheek.
Nay, not this house,-that banquet-house we seek;
See how they kiss and enter; come thou there.
This delicate day of love we two will share
Till at our ear love's whispering night shall speak.
What, sweet one,-hold'st thou still the foolish freak?
Nay, when I kiss thy feet they'll leave the stair.�
-Oh loose me! Seest thou not my Bridegroom's face
That draws me to Him? For His feet my kiss,
My hair, my tears He craves to-day:-and oh!
What words can tell what other day and place
Shall see me clasp those blood-stained feet of His?
He needs me, calls me, loves me: let me go!�