"I drew my bride, beneath the moon,Across my threshold; happy hour!But, ah, the walk that afternoonWe saw the water-flags in flower!"

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The widow cries out at the door, The light of my mind has gone out, O my mother, with his death. So cry out, O soul brides of the Husband Lord, and dwell on the Glorious Praises of the True Lord.

— Guru Nanak