Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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COR DULCE MEUM. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
171
COR DULCE MEUM.
I yearned for friendship more than man
Had ever yearned before,
Since first this beating heart began
To wonder and adore—
Since like a bird it tried to flutter,
Its wings unfledged, and fain would utter
The hope it hardly dared to mutter,
The love it would implore;
And like an open flower my breast
Which sought a clearer sight,
Turned in its eager onward quest
To every ray of light.
Had ever yearned before,
Since first this beating heart began
To wonder and adore—
Since like a bird it tried to flutter,
Its wings unfledged, and fain would utter
The hope it hardly dared to mutter,
The love it would implore;
And like an open flower my breast
Which sought a clearer sight,
Turned in its eager onward quest
To every ray of light.
Mine was a hunger in the frame,
And cutting as a knife,
That with the fretting of its flame
Consumed my inmost life;
I cared not for the earthly laurels
Which were to me but bells and corals,
I strove not in my fellows' quarrels
For any vulgar strife;
I thirsted for no common friend
Who could not satisfy,
I craved no solace with an end
Short of eternity.
And cutting as a knife,
That with the fretting of its flame
Consumed my inmost life;
I cared not for the earthly laurels
Which were to me but bells and corals,
I strove not in my fellows' quarrels
For any vulgar strife;
I thirsted for no common friend
Who could not satisfy,
I craved no solace with an end
Short of eternity.
I found a man of lofty mind,
Who served his country well,
And left the sordid baits behind,
At which the weaker fell;
To him I gave—and did not falter—
Myself as on a sacred altar,
For O I would not lightly palter
With love's pure golden spell;
But while it drew me upward still,
As he in strength arose
And shaped me with his iron will,
I did not gain repose.
Who served his country well,
And left the sordid baits behind,
At which the weaker fell;
To him I gave—and did not falter—
Myself as on a sacred altar,
For O I would not lightly palter
With love's pure golden spell;
But while it drew me upward still,
As he in strength arose
And shaped me with his iron will,
I did not gain repose.
172
I won a maid of magic form
Who blossomed glad and good,
Unmoved by ill of lust or storm
In whitest womanhood;
To her from darkness and dejection
I offered up a whole affection,
And waited for that resurrection,
Unknown but understood;
Yet though she was a spotless thing,
I reaped no perfect rest
Whereto I might for ever cling—
Even on her snowy breast.
Who blossomed glad and good,
Unmoved by ill of lust or storm
In whitest womanhood;
To her from darkness and dejection
I offered up a whole affection,
And waited for that resurrection,
Unknown but understood;
Yet though she was a spotless thing,
I reaped no perfect rest
Whereto I might for ever cling—
Even on her snowy breast.
I had a child of every charm,
Like wedded light and air,
Who leant upon my sheltering arm
While growing still more fair;
In him I thought at last was ended,
The search by which I still contended
For peace, and I had now ascended
Past all my long despair;
But, ah, he sickened in one day
Within my very clasp,
And in his beauty passed away
Beyond my wistful grasp.
Like wedded light and air,
Who leant upon my sheltering arm
While growing still more fair;
In him I thought at last was ended,
The search by which I still contended
For peace, and I had now ascended
Past all my long despair;
But, ah, he sickened in one day
Within my very clasp,
And in his beauty passed away
Beyond my wistful grasp.
But then the doors of Heaven rolled back
From each fond useless tryst,
Revealing on my erring track
The treasures wrongly priced;
But behind man and woman sainted,
And child with glory not untainted,
The joy for which my soul had fainted,
My sweetest heart, the Christ!
The earthly answers to my call
Seemed shadows poor and dim,
And marriage, fatherhood and all,
Were only steps to Him.
From each fond useless tryst,
Revealing on my erring track
The treasures wrongly priced;
But behind man and woman sainted,
And child with glory not untainted,
The joy for which my soul had fainted,
My sweetest heart, the Christ!
The earthly answers to my call
Seemed shadows poor and dim,
And marriage, fatherhood and all,
Were only steps to Him.
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