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57
PÈRE AMBROISE
Did you see the joy and peace of God's great grace
On her face!
Did you hear the calm still sainthood in her speak
Through her cheek?
Then that light of holy knowledge, clear and wise,
In her eyes?
—Ere her face was hid forever, chaste and pale,
By the veil,
Ere the vision and the glory and the light
Passed from sight,
Loving, trusting, God's own work that God had blessed,
Full of rest.
On her face!
Did you hear the calm still sainthood in her speak
Through her cheek?
Then that light of holy knowledge, clear and wise,
In her eyes?
—Ere her face was hid forever, chaste and pale,
By the veil,
Ere the vision and the glory and the light
Passed from sight,
Loving, trusting, God's own work that God had blessed,
Full of rest.
Yet she loved me in a fashion as I think.
Just a chink
In the lattice of her heart let through one day
One faint ray
Of the roselight of the morning of love's skies
On my eyes,
And the phantom of the roselight on her cheek
Bade me speak.
Had I spoken, had I fanned the spark aflame,
Would the same
Fate have fallen on us, think you, now we dree
—I and she?
Just a chink
In the lattice of her heart let through one day
One faint ray
Of the roselight of the morning of love's skies
On my eyes,
And the phantom of the roselight on her cheek
Bade me speak.
Had I spoken, had I fanned the spark aflame,
Would the same
Fate have fallen on us, think you, now we dree
—I and she?
58
But I stopped, even while my heart leaped with the mirth
Of love's birth,
Stopped—I thought I heard God's messenger somewhere
—In the air,
Was it?—bid unbuskin lest my footprints wound
Holy ground.
Sweet wise novice, she was seeking truer bliss,
Jesu's kiss.
I, God's consecrated priest, should I step in,
Thrust between
Her white soul and endless love my poor love-dower
Of an hour!
Of love's birth,
Stopped—I thought I heard God's messenger somewhere
—In the air,
Was it?—bid unbuskin lest my footprints wound
Holy ground.
Sweet wise novice, she was seeking truer bliss,
Jesu's kiss.
I, God's consecrated priest, should I step in,
Thrust between
Her white soul and endless love my poor love-dower
Of an hour!
So I rushed away and left her standing there,
Tall and fair
As the angel when he stood by Mary's side,
Awed, and cried
“Ave, plena gratia!” seeing her fair sweet face,
Full of grace.
Holy Mother! may she never know the cause
Made me pause
So abruptly! Well, love's might-be in her breast
Slept unguessed
Save by me, and I—I left her, tall and fair,
Standing there.
Ah, the bitter tears I shed then, all alone,
Falling prone
Tall and fair
As the angel when he stood by Mary's side,
Awed, and cried
“Ave, plena gratia!” seeing her fair sweet face,
Full of grace.
Holy Mother! may she never know the cause
Made me pause
So abruptly! Well, love's might-be in her breast
Slept unguessed
Save by me, and I—I left her, tall and fair,
Standing there.
Ah, the bitter tears I shed then, all alone,
Falling prone
59
Where the crucifix within the shadow hangs
—God's own pangs,
God's death shown in symbol, His heartache divine
Dwarfing mine
—At the priedieu in the corner of the room
In the gloom.
And I sobbed myself to silence, let heart break
For His sake,
As His Sacred Heart long since at Calvary
Broke for me.
—God's own pangs,
God's death shown in symbol, His heartache divine
Dwarfing mine
—At the priedieu in the corner of the room
In the gloom.
And I sobbed myself to silence, let heart break
For His sake,
As His Sacred Heart long since at Calvary
Broke for me.
I had taught her, I had poured into her ear
All the dear
Mystic wonder of the Love above all love,—
Tried to prove
To her pure faith, where no need of proof was, how
Man should now
Give the love back as completely as he can,
Being but man,
Pain for pain and blood for blood and strife for strife,
—Life for life.
How her face flushed—then grew paler than blown mist,
Rapt and whist!
No heat like the iron when it whitens!—so
When she'd show
That death-pallor in her cheek while eye-fires blazed,
Unamazed
I had seen her brave the Devil, stood he where
She must fare
Past him in the sheer high pathway that she trod
Leads to God,—
She had plunged her hand with Mutius in the flame,
Faced the shame
And the suffering, the spitting and the spear,
Without fear.
All the dear
Mystic wonder of the Love above all love,—
Tried to prove
To her pure faith, where no need of proof was, how
Man should now
Give the love back as completely as he can,
Being but man,
Pain for pain and blood for blood and strife for strife,
—Life for life.
How her face flushed—then grew paler than blown mist,
Rapt and whist!
No heat like the iron when it whitens!—so
When she'd show
That death-pallor in her cheek while eye-fires blazed,
Unamazed
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She must fare
Past him in the sheer high pathway that she trod
Leads to God,—
She had plunged her hand with Mutius in the flame,
Faced the shame
And the suffering, the spitting and the spear,
Without fear.
So I wakened in her heart the first desire
For the higher
Life of utter selflessness and sacrifice,
Saw arise
A great innocent fearlessness that made me fear,
Saw appear
Golden first-fruits of devotion ripening
In the spring
Of the new Christ-year whose Easter bade her then
Rise again;
And I loved her in her life of love and prayer
Unaware.
For the higher
Life of utter selflessness and sacrifice,
Saw arise
A great innocent fearlessness that made me fear,
Saw appear
Golden first-fruits of devotion ripening
In the spring
Of the new Christ-year whose Easter bade her then
Rise again;
And I loved her in her life of love and prayer
Unaware.
Unaware!—ah, but now the clouds withdrew
And I knew!—
Felt the might of love within me rend my heart,
Great drops start
From my body as I agonized, lying there,
In despair!
And I called upon her, murmured her sweet name
Should God claim
This of all things, more to me than all the gold
World could hold,
More than fame, power, victory in the dearest strife
—More than life!
And I knew!—
Felt the might of love within me rend my heart,
Great drops start
From my body as I agonized, lying there,
In despair!
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Should God claim
This of all things, more to me than all the gold
World could hold,
More than fame, power, victory in the dearest strife
—More than life!
More than God, I had almost said. But that wild thought
Stopped me—brought
Fear upon me—a great horror. Then light broke
Through the smoke
Round about me and I seemed to see God's plan
Chastening man.
“I, the Lord thy God, a jealous God, demand
Heart and hand
First for Me to labor, first love Me, My sway
First obey
—Mine your firstlings, Mine your first fruits, Mine your best
—Costliest!”
Stopped me—brought
Fear upon me—a great horror. Then light broke
Through the smoke
Round about me and I seemed to see God's plan
Chastening man.
“I, the Lord thy God, a jealous God, demand
Heart and hand
First for Me to labor, first love Me, My sway
First obey
—Mine your firstlings, Mine your first fruits, Mine your best
—Costliest!”
Was not she my dearest, best—fit sacrifice
In God's eyes,
Lest perchance her image leave nought in my heart
For His part?
Might it not be best for me to lose her here?
She so near,
God so far away in heaven, how should I not
Have forgot
God,—seeing the wondrous beauty of her hair,
And the fair
Angel face—and then the deeps, the mysteries
Of her eyes!
In God's eyes,
Lest perchance her image leave nought in my heart
For His part?
Might it not be best for me to lose her here?
She so near,
62
Have forgot
God,—seeing the wondrous beauty of her hair,
And the fair
Angel face—and then the deeps, the mysteries
Of her eyes!
If I give her now to God, my pearl of price,
Greater thrice
In my eyes—ah, heaven!—than all else life has brought,
Shall He not,
In the yonder-world when I have burned away
All the clay
From my spirit and the gold alone remains,
Bless my pains
With this gift back from His hands that took to give?
“Die to live,”
Was His word of old. Dead love may, like dead men,
Rise again,—
Greater thrice
In my eyes—ah, heaven!—than all else life has brought,
Shall He not,
In the yonder-world when I have burned away
All the clay
From my spirit and the gold alone remains,
Bless my pains
With this gift back from His hands that took to give?
“Die to live,”
Was His word of old. Dead love may, like dead men,
Rise again,—
Not to earth-life here, but at the Day of Days
In the place
Of God's dwelling, where reflections of the Trine
Union shine
Through innumerable unions, caught and bound
In one round
Up to Him and in Him by a mystery strange
That shall change
All the myrrh of sorrow offered at His shrine
Into Wine.
Shall God scorn a broken heart? Shall He despise
Sacrifice?
In the place
Of God's dwelling, where reflections of the Trine
Union shine
Through innumerable unions, caught and bound
In one round
63
That shall change
All the myrrh of sorrow offered at His shrine
Into Wine.
Shall God scorn a broken heart? Shall He despise
Sacrifice?
Then I looked up at the crucifix above—
God's great love
Broke upon me like a torrent whirling down
Tower and town
In its pathway,—and the mystery grew more clear
Symboled there.
What was man's poor love in 's farthest weariest reach,
—Loftiest niche
Man could statue in his heart's cathedral,—height
Of heart's flight,—
To God's love before the ages had begun
For His Son!
God's great love
Broke upon me like a torrent whirling down
Tower and town
In its pathway,—and the mystery grew more clear
Symboled there.
What was man's poor love in 's farthest weariest reach,
—Loftiest niche
Man could statue in his heart's cathedral,—height
Of heart's flight,—
To God's love before the ages had begun
For His Son!
Holier than the holiest love that e'er the earth
Brought to birth,
Mary's for the Christ-child, burning brighter far
Than the star
Led the wise men—She our sea-star, beaconing,
So to bring
Us too with her to the Christ—she, who became
Heaven's Dame!—
Holier still and higher and swifter Thine,
Love Divine,
Outsoars Mary's even, far as hers outsoars
Height of ours.
Brought to birth,
Mary's for the Christ-child, burning brighter far
Than the star
Led the wise men—She our sea-star, beaconing,
So to bring
Us too with her to the Christ—she, who became
Heaven's Dame!—
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Love Divine,
Outsoars Mary's even, far as hers outsoars
Height of ours.
Yet God gave His Son—O mystery that sleeps
In God's deeps!—
Let His infinite Love be tortured—pierced and torn—
Turned to scorn
For our sake—ay, even for this poor half-divine
Love of mine.
Now He asks me, shall I shrink to give Him thence
Recompense?
How the mist about me at this break of day
Cleared away
And God's meaning slowly, like the morning, stole
On my soul!
In God's deeps!—
Let His infinite Love be tortured—pierced and torn—
Turned to scorn
For our sake—ay, even for this poor half-divine
Love of mine.
Now He asks me, shall I shrink to give Him thence
Recompense?
How the mist about me at this break of day
Cleared away
And God's meaning slowly, like the morning, stole
On my soul!
Yield you, bend your will to His will; who obeys,
Gets God's grace.
Though the Devil's pride within you still impel
To rebel,
Keeping back the day of God's fulfilment here,
Do not fear,—
Vanquished is victorious; freedom's self-defeat
Being complete,
Then the purpose of God's lesson is made known,
Hell's o'erthrown,
And submission lifts to higher liberty—
Love makes free.
Gets God's grace.
Though the Devil's pride within you still impel
To rebel,
Keeping back the day of God's fulfilment here,
Do not fear,—
Vanquished is victorious; freedom's self-defeat
Being complete,
Then the purpose of God's lesson is made known,
Hell's o'erthrown,
65
Love makes free.
If you yield you as the helpless knife obeys
Him that slays—
As the senseless waters tumble down the hill,
Will or nill,
That's the Stoic, that benumbs you, makes you slave,
As Christ gave
Freedom, life for you, so give you with good will,
Then you fill
God's full cup of sacrifice to brim, and so
Come to know
God's way, act it, be it, so with God to be,
As God, free,—
Him that slays—
As the senseless waters tumble down the hill,
Will or nill,
That's the Stoic, that benumbs you, makes you slave,
As Christ gave
Freedom, life for you, so give you with good will,
Then you fill
God's full cup of sacrifice to brim, and so
Come to know
God's way, act it, be it, so with God to be,
As God, free,—
Freedom, lost once, freely yielded at God's feet,
Now more sweet,
Found again at God's feet, past the ebb and flow,
In Heaven's glow.
See, God striving with me, I would not unclasp
My heart's grasp
Till He blessed me—then I rose and stole away. ...
The next day
Made excuses—certain matters of import—
Well, in short,
That's the last I saw of her till twelve hours since.
I did wince
In the church there. How heart's embers burst to flame!
But I came
Back for that,—that last look. Ite, missa est. ...
What a rest
In the stars! The lazy wind in the close beneath
Seems to breathe
A great quiet. That's like our love, sister—ours,
Peace embowers,
Calm and tender. See the moonlight's elfish play
On the bay. ...
What a heavy scent of honeysuckle!. ... So!
Let us go.
Now more sweet,
Found again at God's feet, past the ebb and flow,
In Heaven's glow.
See, God striving with me, I would not unclasp
My heart's grasp
Till He blessed me—then I rose and stole away. ...
The next day
Made excuses—certain matters of import—
Well, in short,
That's the last I saw of her till twelve hours since.
I did wince
66
But I came
Back for that,—that last look. Ite, missa est. ...
What a rest
In the stars! The lazy wind in the close beneath
Seems to breathe
A great quiet. That's like our love, sister—ours,
Peace embowers,
Calm and tender. See the moonlight's elfish play
On the bay. ...
What a heavy scent of honeysuckle!. ... So!
Let us go.
1887
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