I plunge into the deepest seas,
In flames I, laughing, burn.
In roseate clouds I take my ease
Nor to the earth return.
It is my beauteous Name — my own —
That I have never heard.
God keeps it for Himself alone,
That strange and lovely word.
God keeps it for Himself — but yet
You are His voice, and so
In your heart He is calling me,
And unto you I go.
Love, by this Name I sing, and breathe
A fresh, mysterious air.
By this I innocently wreathe
New garlands for my hair.
By this Name I am born anew
More beautiful, more bright.
More roseate than angelic dew,
Apparelled in delight.
I'll sing and stitch and make the bread
In the wonder of my Name,
And sun the linen for the bed
And tend the fireside flame.
By this Name do I answer yes —
Word beautiful and true.
By this I'll sew the bridal dress
I shall put on for you.
Songs of an Empty House. [Marguerite Wilkinson]
Vista
Before I die I may be great,
The chanting guest of kings,
A queen in wonderlands of song
Where every blossom sings.
I may put on a golden gown
And walk in sunny light,
Carrying in my hair the day,
And in my eyes the night.