 | Twilight Songs |  |
55
PASSIONTIDE COMMUNION.
Not in the Sepulchre Thou art
Till the Third Day shall bid Thee rise;
Thou hast chosen my cold and lifeless heart
To rest as it were Paradise.
Till the Third Day shall bid Thee rise;
Thou hast chosen my cold and lifeless heart
To rest as it were Paradise.
Not in the rock-hewn grave Thou'rt laid—
For that were warm beside my chill—
On a hard breast Thou'st leant Thy head
And of cold love Thou hast Thy fill.
For that were warm beside my chill—
On a hard breast Thou'st leant Thy head
And of cold love Thou hast Thy fill.
Thou had'st Thy Mother's knees, her arm,
And wherefore camest Thou to this strait?
This, that not even Thy love can warm,
A heart deflowered and violate.
And wherefore camest Thou to this strait?
This, that not even Thy love can warm,
A heart deflowered and violate.
But still Thou wilt not rise, be gone,
Until the Third Day's miracle.
On this impure heart, cold as stone,
Thou art content and sleepest well.
Until the Third Day's miracle.
On this impure heart, cold as stone,
Thou art content and sleepest well.
| Twilight Songs | |