 | Poems of Adoration |  |
20
THE BLESSED SACRAMENT
I
GATHER, gather,Drawn by the Father,
Drawn to the dear procession of His Son!
They are bearing His Body. . . . Run
To the Well-Belovèd! Haste to Him,
Who down the street passeth secretly,
Adorned with Seraphim,
Still as the blooms of an apple-tree.
II
Gather, gather,Drawn by the Father!
Not now He dwelleth in the Virgin's womb:
In the harvests He hath His room;
From the lovely vintage, from the wheat,
From the harvests that we this year have grown,
He giveth us His flesh to eat,
And in very substance makes us His own.
III
Gather, gather,Drawn by the Father!
The sun is down, it is the sundown hour.
He, who set the fair sun to flower,
And the stars to rise and fall—
21
Kneel, He loveth us all;
He is come in the breaking of Bread.
IV
Gather, gather(Drawn by the Father),
To our God who is shown to us so mild,
Borne in our midst, a child!
He is King and with an orb so small:
And not a word will He say,
Nor on the Angels call,
Though we trample Him down on the way.
On the Holy Angels He will not call . . .
Oh, guard Him with breasts impregnable!
Sept. 25-26, 1908
| Poems of Adoration | |