The Daughter of the Dawn

Look if the daughter of the dawn hath rent
The blackness of her armour,

At the sound of the maiden's songs,

At the sound of the song of her doves.

What word shall I drop on the house of Isaac—
The branch that is like to the root?
On the brow of the days it is graven
That he inheriteth dominion;

A man seeketh to ascend to the clouds
If he should seek to acquire it.

Whether it please or anger them,

Say unto them who would get it:

Turn—for the heritage of dominion
Belongeth to her masters.

Perfumes from far off lands

Have ridden on the wings of the wind;

The scent of purest spices

From the graceful doe they have stolen,

For her sake taking sweet counsel together.

For the times of love draw nigh.

Come down, her beloved—why tarriest thou
To feed amid her gardens?

Turn aside to the couch of love,

To gather her lilies.

Sweet apples of her breasts
Give forth their fragrance;

For thee she hideth in her necklaces
Precious fruits shining like light:

Wait a little for her precious fruits
Until the moon be full.

For full-moon it will be tomorrow—

Like one of the moons of her adornment,
And to thee she will be a lamp,

Lighting up her bowers.

Beautiful is thy fair gazelle—

Her light is sevenfold;

She would shame, but for her veil,

All the stars of heaven.

Pomegranates upon a watered branch—
Guard them from other eyes!

Though she bring her serpents forth
From behind her veil,

Thou shalt have no fear of them:

Her adders have no venom.

The soul of the hill of frankincense
Thirsteth for the mountain of myrrh,
Until he have betrothed her to himself in faithfulness,

And the swallow hath found her a nest.
Pure and fair as the moon—

All praise faileth to tell of her.

The dawn of her countenance darkeneth
The Great Bear and his train;

And a lamp of grace she lighteth
Before her face.