'And many among them shall stumble, and fall, and be broken, and be snared, and be . . . taken.'
He has taken me with a snare
A ring of love
And broken me when I fell stumbling
He has taken me with a fish trap
A tangled web of passion
And broken me when I surrendered
He has opened me with sunlight
And filled every crevice
He has seen me with moonlight
And tipped me out
He has chosen me with a circlet
A ring-knife of swiftlight
He has cut me in twain
And torn down all my walls
He has chosen me in the furnace
And set me amongst the burning stars
Not any hurt can harm me
Nor can any terror shake me
With their silent speech
With the circle of their fiery sound
He has married me to the sons of Wales
Made of ever-living paths, I am
Yet before ever they were, the rising
wells
With the lucent shore
With the amaranthine rocks
He has married me to the tidal Sea
Made of mortal flesh, I am
Yet of spirit overawed and overflowed
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