Stood the veil'd visitant. The breath of flowers
Foretold her coming. With their wealth she brought
Grapes in the cluster, and a clasped Book,
The holiest, and the best.
"Show me thine eyes!"
He pray'd. But still with undrawn veil, she gave
The promise of return, in whisper sweet,
"Good night! good night!
Wilt read my Book? and say
Oh Lamb of God, forgive!"