IV
Woman, never cock’s crow sounded sweet before!
Set the casement wide ajar, fasten back the door!
Eh, but I be cold an’ stiff, waitin’ for th’ dawn;
Fetch me flowers—jessamine—see, the food is gone....
Light enough to see her now.... Mary! How her face
Shines on us like altar fires, now she’s sure o’ grace!
Never mind your Book, my lamb, never mind your beads,
There’s th’ Gleam before you now, follow where it leads.