Though better men may fear that trumpet's warning, <br />I meet you, lady, on the Judgment morning, <br />With golden hope my spirit still adorning. <br /> <br /> <br />Our God who made you all so fair and sweet <br />Is three times gentle, and before his feet <br />Rejoicing I shall say:—"The girl you gave <br />Was my first Heaven, an angel bent to save. <br />Oh, God, her maker, if my ingrate breath <br />Is worth this rescue from the Second Death, <br />Perhaps her dear proud eyes grow gentler too <br />That scorned my graceless years and trophies few. <br /> <br />Gone are those years, and gone ill-deeds that turned <br />Her sacred beauty from my songs that burned. <br />We now as comrades through the stars may take <br />The rich and arduous quests I did forsake. <br />Grant me a seraph-guide to thread the throng <br />And quickly find that woman-soul so strong. <br />I dream that in her deeply-hidden heart <br />Hurt love lived on, though we were apart, <br />A brooding secret mercy like your own <br />That blooms to-day to vindicate your throne.<br /><br />Vachel Lindsay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-meet-at-the-judgment-and-i-fear-it-not/
