XIX
Like the moment when the moon appears before the dropping light of day has cleared the evening sky, I now became aware of a procession in the city: wonderful and sudden, with no sign or signal, the shining streets were lined with virgins all adorned in the very clothes my girl had worn.
The crowns they wore were like her crown, their pearls and pure white dresses all like hers, and at each maiden’s breast the same pure pearl of happiness.
Down every street and alleyway of gold alight like glinting glass they passed together in a stream of happiness, one hundred thousand dressed alike, not one less radiant than the rest. And at their head the Lamb whose seven horns were flames of reddened gold, whose garments shone like precious polished pearls. Thousands flowed towards the throne in happiness, demure and meek as young girls might behave at Mass.
I have no ready words to tell what happiness his coming stirred: as he approached, the elders fell upon their knees before his feet and angels in their legions threw sweet smelling incense on the air. Their voices were one single voice, their vows one single vow in praise of him, the man they called their pearl. That sound could strike from heaven down through the very earth to hell. That sound contained my happiness as well.
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