The white veiled maids to confirmation go

Through deep green garden paths they slowly wind;

Their childhood they are leaving now behind:

The future will be different they know.

Oh! Will it come? They wait—It must come soon!

The next long hour slowly strikes at last

The whole house stirs again the feast is past

And sadly passes by the afternoon …

Like resurrection were the garments white

The wreathed procession walked through trees arched wide

Into the church as cool as silk inside

With long aisles of tall candles flaming bright:

The lights all shone like jewels rich and rare

To solemn eyes that watched them gleam and flare.

Then through the silence the great song rose high

Up to the vaulted dome like clouds it soared

Then luminously gently down it poured—

Over white veils like rain it seemed to die.

The wind through the white garments softly stirred

And they grew vari-coloured in each fold

And each fold hidden blossoms seemed to hold

And flowers and stars and fluting notes of bird

And dim quaint figures shimmering like gold

Seemed to come forth from distant myths of old.

Outside the day was one of green and blue

With touches of a luminous glowing red

Across the quiet pond the small waves sped.

Beyond the city gardens hidden from view

Sent odors of sweet blossoms on the breeze

And singing sounded through the far off trees.

It was as though garlands crowned everything

And all things were touched softly by the sun;

And many windows opened one by one

And the light trembled on them glistening.