The Bride is set
in a bright, warm gown.
Jazmins make her wreath;
stirred clouds her veil.
Her tresses are bound,
wound up and tied.
A fragance in each,
laid by morning dew.
And thus she waits
under Spring's new heat,
watching time mar
her soft skin; she sing:
"when shall it come,
the day I die and yet live on?