Poem by Vachel Lindsay

The Fairy Bridal-Hymn

This is a song to the white-armed one
Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring, 
Whose feet are slow on the hills of life, 
Whose round mouth rules by whispering. 

This is a song to the white-armed one 
Whose breast shall burn as a Summer field, 
Whose wings shall rise to the doors of gold, 
Whose poppy lips to the God shall yield. 

This is a song to the white-armed one 
When the closing rose shall bind her fast, 
And a song of the song their blood shall sing, 
When the Rose-God drinks her soul at last.

1. With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
2. What the Sexton Said
3. When Bryan Speaks
4. What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said
5. The Drunkards in the Street

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