Henry Alford

Sonnet XXVI. "Rise, said the Master, come unto the feast:--"

Rise, said the Master, come unto the feast:-- She heard the call, and rose with willing feet; But thinking it not otherwise than meet For such a bidding to put on her best, She is gone from us for a few short hours Into her bridal--closet, there to wait For the unfolding of the palace--gate, That gives her entrance to the blissful bowers. We have not seen her yet, though we have been Full often to her chamber--door, and oft Have listened underneath the postern green, And laid fresh flowers, and whispered short and soft; But she hath made no answer, and the day From the clear west is fading fast away.