Bride

Do I miss the flames that sail?
Their fumes chill my love in vain.
I fear the mists that enfold the gale
And wash the pyre ashore again.

Do I pine the coming blue?
My sigh sings the eldritch dome
Where, shining since Heaven was new,
Candles reach for a new home.

Do I kiss the daylight?
Are these tears or drops of dew
Appearing to the mist of my sight
Diamonds of a waking dream in view?

Do I feel my ghost’s despair?
How it stirs but will not wake
Lost forever to haunt where
Uncharted horizons break.

I saw an old photograph
Of a petal-wreathed bride
May her smile be my epitaph
When I join the wind and tide.

May her smile my ghost be,
May her bouquet my heart close
To the crowd of maidens set free;
I will be the prayer she throws.

Ah! To lie with her united
For eternity and a thousand years
Below celestial choirs ignited
By the music of new spheres!

Let me—let me be her smile
So I might cross the skies
And sing celestial while
I am the new dawn’s rise.