 | Poems |  |
55
A Certain Creditor
Dear lord, there was a certain Creditor—
Thou knowest who, and who His debtor was,
And is, and ever so shall be, because
He who hath much forgiven, yet o'er and o'er
Goes on, and draws from out His boundless store
Of mercy; blasts not, no, nor overawes
With all the dreadful beauty of His laws;
Saying only, Love Me, child, I ask no more:
Thou knowest who, and who His debtor was,
And is, and ever so shall be, because
He who hath much forgiven, yet o'er and o'er
Goes on, and draws from out His boundless store
Of mercy; blasts not, no, nor overawes
With all the dreadful beauty of His laws;
Saying only, Love Me, child, I ask no more:
Go on, O Lord, love Thine unworthy one,
And give me will and power to love Thee; yet
Forgive not that, but multiply the debt,
Still owing, still to owe, and still to owe,
Thou sweetest Creditor, on yet, and on,
A sum whose total I shall never know.
And give me will and power to love Thee; yet
Forgive not that, but multiply the debt,
Still owing, still to owe, and still to owe,
Thou sweetest Creditor, on yet, and on,
A sum whose total I shall never know.
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