Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
The Name
W
In gardens deep and fair,
How very curious it seems—
This mortal name I bear.
And trim the household light
And sun the linen for the bed
And close the door at night.
And whence it was I came—
Before the Church had laid on me
This frail and earthly name.
And three things promised they,
Upon my soul with one accord
Their easy vows did lay.
I think it was not there.
But in a place they had forgot
It drank a starrier air.
There did it dance and run,
And sometimes it lay down to sleep
Or sprang into the sun.
My sweet wings saw not he!
He graved me with a solemn sign
And laid a name on me.
The daughter of my home,
By this name do I save and spend
And when they call, I come.
More secret and more mine!
It burns as does the angelic flame
Before the midmost shrine.
Into God’s heart it came,
He wrote a meaning in my thought
And gave to me a Name.
And dance from star to star,
And I behold all things are fair,
For I see them as they are.
In flames I, laughing, burn.
In roseate clouds I take my ease
Nor to the earth return.
That I have never heard.
God keeps it for Himself alone,
That strange and lovely word.
You are His voice, and so
In your heart He is calling me,
And unto you I go.
A fresh, mysterious air.
By this I innocently wreathe
New garlands for my hair.
More beautiful, more bright.
More roseate than angelic dew,
Apparelled in delight.
In the wonder of my Name,
And sun the linen for the bed
And tend the fireside flame.
Word beautiful and true.
By this I’ll sew the bridal dress
I shall put on for you.