HE FEEDS AMONG THE LILIES

HE FEEDS AMONG THE LILIES*

“Fair is my love that feeds among the lilies”
Bartholemew Griffin


“You’ve called me to your inner chamber King,
Warm me with kisses from your honeyed mouth,
Freshest fragrance from thy lily lips I bring;
Of love I sing, strong wine from sunny South.

No wonder my modest maids adore you!
Abduct me Sire, seducer, hurry, haste!
For dark am I and ardent, a maiden true,
Singed and seared by blazing sunlight to taste

Your love. My brothers angry, made me care
For their sour grapes, because I neglected mine.
So tell me dear, where graze your flocks so fair,
Where feed your sheep and kine at high noon time?”

“Oh ignorant maid, trace their feet, my fair;
First feed the fold beside my shepherd’s tent.
I compare you to a fine Arabian mare,
Your cheeks are gently rouged, bedecked with scent.

I’ll hold your bracelet, sheered from finest gold,
I’ll fashion for your ears some diamond rings.
While we supped, it was glory to behold
Your happy smile spread her peacock wings.

Rest in me, oh sachet of marvellous myrrh,
Nestle through the night between my breasts of light.
My house has cedar beams, rafters of fir,
My bed is soft, your eyes like doves in flight.”

“I am red like the crimson Sharon rose,
Found with blanched lilies in the valley deep,
As the holy lily among the thistles grows,
I’ll hold you in my arms while you gently sleep

As the golden apple found in trees of wood,
So do you my love, stand above my youth,
The fruit of love is sweet to eat like truth,
I rest beneath your gaze, so deep, so good,

Grace urged me to come to your banquet hall,
Your cloak of calm which clothed me, was your love,
Fortify me with your strength before I fall,
Or I’ll faint from the force of the One above.

Your firm left hand rests on my aching head,
Your right arm’s placed to embrace my heart,
I charge my soul, in case from fear she’s fled,
Be not afraid, for his love’s aroused to start.

Hear his voice now bounding, skipping over hills,
My lover leaps like a stag or young gazelle,
He shouts through the lattice, calls over sills,
‘Come arise, cruel winter’s past, all is well!’

The pelting of the rain has stopped and gone,
Millions of blooms dance on the stage of Earth,
Warbling birds chant hymns of praise in song,
Softly croons the dove heralding my new birth.”

“Pomegranates and ripening grapes renew
The strength, which flows through the blood red wines,
Let me glimpse your original face and touch you,
We’ll catch the little foxes that maraud our vines.

I am his, he feeds on the lilies of the field;
No sleepless nights, when boredom breeds bad bed,
‘Till day awakes, I inward turn and yield.
I dress and wonder round the town so led

Through streets, praying, then I recanted.
By-ways I searched for that one I truly love,
I failed to reach you, for whom my soul has panted,
I asked,‘had they sight of him for whom I strove?’

Bereft of hope untill by nightwatchmen found,
We scoured the town searching for the King,
Then I found him hiding in my body’s ground,
It is of this one great love that I now sing.

To my breast I clung and clasped him, not to lose
Nor let him go, until safe in my mother’s room.
‘Daughters, I charge the stags, the harts, the roes,
Waken not my heart, ‘til it pleases Him whom

I truly Am!’ See now in this strange story,
Solomon for his wedding day is crowned.
He rides from the desert in fire and glory,
Purple robed, sixty valiant chiefs surround,

Flashing swords on high, their reins they draw,
His car is drawn by steeds named Love and Awe.

*A free versification of part of The Song of Solomon