March 15
THE SERVICE OF SUFFERING
“The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared
with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”—
Rom. viii. 18.
Bring forth the royal robe of fire,
Bring here the crown of thorn,
Drive home the nails that crush desire
And pangs that I have borne;
Dear child, I cannot give thee less
Than was My lovely Loneliness.
Put on the jewels that are pain
And do forbid thee rest,
O let the altar knife again
Stab on and through the breast;
I could not honour weakness more,
Than with the sufferings that I wore.
Cast out the craven doubt and fear
That tamper with My Truth,
And bare thy heart unto the spear
That sharpens upon youth;
Dear child, thou could'st not offer less
Than life with all its wilfulness.
Put off pretence that apes the whole,
Self-righteous rags of shame,
And let Me burn into thy soul
My Love with purging flame;
I seek thy fulness, but not more
Than I so freely gave before.
