(Compliments of Matt, a character in one of my stories.)
I saw a maid all shimmering,
White as stars and bright as day,
Whose glance can pierce the heart of one
Who dares to look her face upon
And hear the word she has to say.
He who once looks in her eyes
Can never stop himself from falling;
I know it well, for I have tried,
And never more can lightly bide;
I must go on, for she is calling.
Ahead upon the road she goes,
And ever must the road be blest,
For she is on it, beckoning;
And we must leave each lesser thing
And struggle onward without rest.
He who listens to her voice
Can never stop his ears again,
But evermore must hear it speak
Within his heart, and ceaseless seek
Its wrenching music, sweetest pain.
Follow her on, and dare not halt,
For she is kind to those who strive,
Though slow and stumbling, her to find;
She will not scorn thee, lowly hind,
Nor from her feet thy tribute drive.
She is my hope and my delight,
Fairest daughter of the King;
White her brow as snow at dawn.
Sweet her breath as blossoms wan,
Shaking from the trees in spring.