Seite:Marsh Hallig 1856.djvu/191

191

POETRY AND PROSE.

    Dost call life a vailing,
       That nothing doth hide !
     Nay! honor that covering !
         It drapeth the bride

     Who vails herself coldly
       From gazers profane,
     But gladdens the faithful
       With promise most plain.

     Her breathing is wafted
       On every side,
     As sea-airs bring greetings
       When oceans divide;

     And wanders the pilgrim
       To north or to south,
     She welcomes him kindly,
       With smiles on her mouth ;

     From stars shining o'er him
       Kind glances doth give ;
     And smileth, prophetic,
       On cradle and grave.

     In storm, then, and conflict,
       In nights of thick cloud,
     Though blamed by the wise ones,
       And scorned by the proud,

     Thy brow bind with garlands,
       For festival hall,
     From hope's tree immortal,
       Whose leaves never fall.

     Who, fighting or falling,
       Doubts not of success,
     Hath gained a sure triumph,
       Hath won the bride's yes.

     She leads to the altar,
       She guideth him home ;
     His faith is now seeing,
       His rest-day has come.