And the woman said, "Nay, King, but I am still a maid." Whereat the King
cried: "O maid, made Man, thou shalt be Bride of God."
And yet the third time the woman shrank at the thunder in her ears, and
whispered: "Dear God, I am black!"
The King spake not, but swept the veiling of his face aside and lifted
up the light of his countenance upon her and lo! it was black.
So the woman went forth on the hills of God to do battle for the King,
on that drear day in the land of the Heavy Laden, when the heathen raged
and imagined a vain thing.