 | Devotional Poems |  |
1
INVENI QUEM DILIGIT ANIMA MEA
What do I see?
The semblance of a little wheaten cake
Stampt with the image of Him Who for my sake
Died on His Passion-tree.
That wheat was grown in the eternal field,
And threshed with love's own flail, and heavily ground
Between the stones of life and death, and found
In perfectness, that I might see revealed
My Lover and my God;
Him from Whose eyes
There dropt the sorrow-drops all humanwise;
Him at Whose nod
The everlasting hills would quake and flee.
This do I see.
The semblance of a little wheaten cake
Stampt with the image of Him Who for my sake
Died on His Passion-tree.
That wheat was grown in the eternal field,
And threshed with love's own flail, and heavily ground
Between the stones of life and death, and found
In perfectness, that I might see revealed
My Lover and my God;
Him from Whose eyes
There dropt the sorrow-drops all humanwise;
Him at Whose nod
The everlasting hills would quake and flee.
This do I see.
8
What do I see?
The chalice seeming of the grapes' red juice,
With water mingled, as for daily use.
O Love and Lord of me,
That juice is of the blood-red grapes that grew
Upon the living Vine Whose fruitage knew
The ripening of the everlasting Sun
Whose course was ne'er begun.
The chalice seeming of the grapes' red juice,
With water mingled, as for daily use.
O Love and Lord of me,
That juice is of the blood-red grapes that grew
Upon the living Vine Whose fruitage knew
The ripening of the everlasting Sun
Whose course was ne'er begun.
O Lover mine, O King,
What is indeed this thing,
This high, love-dreadful thing?
Thy Life, Thy Death, Thy Resurrection, all
The glory of Thine Ascension festival
In these few minutes' space
Passing before my face.
What is indeed this thing,
This high, love-dreadful thing?
Thy Life, Thy Death, Thy Resurrection, all
The glory of Thine Ascension festival
In these few minutes' space
Passing before my face.
Here do I bow my head,
And in my heart be said
Things of adoring love my tongue all weak
Frames not itself to speak.
Oh, here is bitterest bitter and sweetest sweet;
And here is hunger and thirst and drink and meat;
And here are clouds of agony, the mist
Wherefrom doth rise the glory of the sun;
Here the defeat and here the victory won;
And here is God Himself in Eucharist.
And in my heart be said
Things of adoring love my tongue all weak
Frames not itself to speak.
Oh, here is bitterest bitter and sweetest sweet;
And here is hunger and thirst and drink and meat;
And here are clouds of agony, the mist
Wherefrom doth rise the glory of the sun;
Here the defeat and here the victory won;
And here is God Himself in Eucharist.
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