 | Carmina crucis |  |
99
EXPECTANS EXPECTAVI.
Thou gavest me no kiss,
Jesus, my Master! oft I sadly thought
Perchance Thou choosest to be found unsought;
And I was ever seeking! yet in this
I cannot change, and even should I miss
Thee on thy way, yet here I will abide,
And track thy foot-prints to the dark stream's side.
Jesus, my Master! oft I sadly thought
Perchance Thou choosest to be found unsought;
And I was ever seeking! yet in this
I cannot change, and even should I miss
Thee on thy way, yet here I will abide,
And track thy foot-prints to the dark stream's side.
Thou gavest unto me
No sign! I knew no loving secret, told
As oft to men beloved, and I must hold
My peace when these would speak of converse high;
Jesus, my Master, yet I would be nigh
When these would speak, and in the words rejoice,
Of them who listen to the Bridegroom's voice.
Thou gavest unto me
No goodly gift, no pearl of price untold,
No signet-ring, no ruby shut in gold,
No chain around my neck to wear for pride,
For love no token in my breast to hide;
Yea! these, perchance, from out my careless hold
Had slipped, perchance some robber shrewd and bold
Had snatch'd them from me! so Thou didst provide
For me, my Master kind, from day to day;
And in this world, Thine Inn, Thou badst me stay,
And saidst,—“What Thou spendest, I will pay.”
No sign! I knew no loving secret, told
As oft to men beloved, and I must hold
My peace when these would speak of converse high;
Jesus, my Master, yet I would be nigh
When these would speak, and in the words rejoice,
Of them who listen to the Bridegroom's voice.
100
No goodly gift, no pearl of price untold,
No signet-ring, no ruby shut in gold,
No chain around my neck to wear for pride,
For love no token in my breast to hide;
Yea! these, perchance, from out my careless hold
Had slipped, perchance some robber shrewd and bold
Had snatch'd them from me! so Thou didst provide
For me, my Master kind, from day to day;
And in this world, Thine Inn, Thou badst me stay,
And saidst,—“What Thou spendest, I will pay.”
I never heard Thee say
“Bring forth the robe for this My son, the best,”
Thou gavest not to me, as unto guest
Approved, a festal mantle rich and gay;
Still singing, ever singing, in the cold
Thou leavest me, without Thy Door to stay;
Now the Night draweth on, the Day is old,
And Thou hast never said,—“Come in, my Friend,”—
Yet once, yea twice, methinks thy love did send
A secret message,—“Bless'd unto the end
Are they that love and they that still endure.”
Jesus, my Saviour, take to Thee Thy poor,
Take home Thy humble Friend.
“Bring forth the robe for this My son, the best,”
Thou gavest not to me, as unto guest
Approved, a festal mantle rich and gay;
Still singing, ever singing, in the cold
Thou leavest me, without Thy Door to stay;
Now the Night draweth on, the Day is old,
And Thou hast never said,—“Come in, my Friend,”—
Yet once, yea twice, methinks thy love did send
101
Are they that love and they that still endure.”
Jesus, my Saviour, take to Thee Thy poor,
Take home Thy humble Friend.
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