Anna Hempstead Branch: The Name
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The Name

1875-1937


When I come back from secret dreams
         In gardens deep and fair,
How very curious it seems --
         This mortal name I bear.

For by this name I make their bread
         And trim the household light
And sun the linen for the bed
         And close the door at night.

I wonder who myself may be,
         And whence it was I came --
Before the Church had laid on me
         This frail and earthly name.

My sponsors spake unto the Lord
         And three things promised they,
Upon my soul with one accord
         Their easy vows did lay.

My ancient spirit heard them not.
         I think it was not there.
But in a place they had forgot
         It drank a starrier air.

Yes, in a silent place and deep --
         There did it dance and run,
And sometimes it lay down to sleep
         Or sprang into the sun.

The Priest saw not my aureole shine!
         My sweet wings saw not he!
He graved me with a solemn sign
         And laid a name on me.

Now by this name I stitch and mend,
         The daughter of my home,
By this name do I save and spend
         And when they call, I come.

But oh, that Name, that other Name,
         More secret and more mine!
It burns as does the angelic flame
         Before the midmost shrine.

Before my soul to earth was brought
         Into God's heart it came,
He wrote a meaning in my thought
         And gave to me a Name.

By this Name do I ride the air
         And dance from star to star,
And I behold all things are fair,
         For I see them as they are.

I plunge into the deepest seas,
         In flames I, laughing, burn.
In roseate clouds I take my ease
         Nor to the earth return.

It is my beauteous Name -- my own --
         That I have never heard.
God keeps it for Himself alone,
         That strange and lovely word.

God keeps it for Himself -- but yet
         You are His voice, and so
In your heart He is calling me,
         And unto you I go.

Love, by this Name I sing, and breathe
         A fresh, mysterious air.
By this I innocently wreathe
         New garlands for my hair.

By this Name I am born anew
         More beautiful, more bright.
More roseate than angelic dew,
         Apparelled in delight.

I'll sing and stitch and make the bread
         In the wonder of my Name,
And sun the linen for the bed
         And tend the fireside flame.

By this Name do I answer yes --
         Word beautiful and true.
By this I'll sew the bridal dress
         I shall put on for you.


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DayPoems Poem No. 1416



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