 | Devotional Poems |  |
3
A SONNET OF THE MOST HOLY
EUCHARIST
To eye of sense, only a cake of wheat!
To eye of sense, only a little wine!
To Faith's clear sight, the Majesty divine,
God's heart with its eternal human beat,
And God's own wounded hands and wounded feet,
And side, spear-torn to be for aye the shrine
Where contrite hearts, pierced by that love benign,
Know that His justice and His mercy meet.
To eye of sense, only a little wine!
To Faith's clear sight, the Majesty divine,
God's heart with its eternal human beat,
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And side, spear-torn to be for aye the shrine
Where contrite hearts, pierced by that love benign,
Know that His justice and His mercy meet.
To Thee, O glorious Guest, to Thee whose word
Of charity hath bidden us to be,
Heart, soul and spirit bend with bended knee.
Smite Thou and slay our hate, our pride, dear Lord,
Here in our kneeling, with the two-edged sword
Of Thy dread love and dread humility.
Of charity hath bidden us to be,
Heart, soul and spirit bend with bended knee.
Smite Thou and slay our hate, our pride, dear Lord,
Here in our kneeling, with the two-edged sword
Of Thy dread love and dread humility.
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