I wandered, aimless, through the plain,
Listless and not caring.
Purpose in life had vanished fast,
And with him my joy he carried.
Life was a blur, the same routine,
A dull, monotonous plodding;
Some laughter here, and sunshine there,
Yet darkness my life was clouding.
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?*
It is the King, the Spirit, the Son!
From the mountains They came to my valley below,
And from Them my fears did run.
I knelt before the matchless King;
On my head He laid His hand:
"This one is Mine, My love, My bride,
And Princess over My land."
*Apologies to Shakespeare. : )