THE BELOVED
by: Katharine Tynan Hinkson
(1861-1931)
- LOW gently
over my garden,
- Wind of the Southern sea,
- In the hour that my Love cometh
- And calleth me!
- My Love shall entreat me sweetly,
- With voice like the wood-pigeon;
- I am here at the gate of thy garden,
- Here in the dawn.
-
- Then I shall rise up swiftly
- All in the rose and grey,
- And open the gate to my Lover
- At dawning of day.
- He hath crowns of pain on His forehead,
- And wounds in His hands and feet;
- But here mid the dews of my garden
- His rest shall be sweet.
-
- Then blow not out of your forests,
- Wind of the icy North;
- But Wind of the South that is healing
- Rise and come forth!
- And shed your musk and your honey,
- And spill your odours of spice,
- For one who forsook for my garden
- His Paradise!
"The Beloved" is reprinted
from The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. Ed. D.
H. S. Nicholson and A. H. E. Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon Press,
1917. |
MORE POEMS BY KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON |
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