 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
110
SAVING LOVE.
I said, “Oh, thou who holdest in thy hand
A rose-wreath'd lamp, whereof the mystic light
Makes dim the floating glories of the night,
Surely thou comest from some unknown land:
Draw near and speak, that I may understand
Thy will; make weakness strong, make darkness bright.”
Then burn'd intenser glories on my sight,
And unseen wings the quivering stillness fann'd,
A rose-wreath'd lamp, whereof the mystic light
Makes dim the floating glories of the night,
Surely thou comest from some unknown land:
Draw near and speak, that I may understand
Thy will; make weakness strong, make darkness bright.”
Then burn'd intenser glories on my sight,
And unseen wings the quivering stillness fann'd,
While a voice said, “Rise up, O weary heart!
Poor heart that died in a too bitter strife,
I am the Resurrection and the Life!
I am the Love, whereby redeem'd thou art.”
And then I knelt, and all love's light was shed
About me as I knelt and worshippèd.
Poor heart that died in a too bitter strife,
I am the Resurrection and the Life!
I am the Love, whereby redeem'd thou art.”
And then I knelt, and all love's light was shed
About me as I knelt and worshippèd.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |