John Bannister Tabb

The Bride Elect

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When God created man,
Of destiny so dim,
And deigned His work to scan,
Behold, He pitied him;
Nay, more, for love of him began
A greater mystery to plan.

Within the sleeper's brain,
His waking hours to bless,
Was born--alas! in vain--
A dream of loveliness
That ne'er Omniscence had known
In light of shadeless heaven alone.

This vision of the night
The Image-Maker caught
And for his soul's delight,
A revelation wrought
Out of the dreamer's open side--
Flesh of his flesh--a virgin bride.

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