 | Carmina crucis |  |
102
ELECTION.
Who shall the secret learn
Of Thine exclusion stern?
Thy word, thy world write bitter things and plain,
Yet doth the heart appeal,
From lore their books unseal,
And ask, “Can aught that lives love, suffer, yearn in vain?”
Of Thine exclusion stern?
Thy word, thy world write bitter things and plain,
Yet doth the heart appeal,
From lore their books unseal,
And ask, “Can aught that lives love, suffer, yearn in vain?”
Pain shall my witness be
That I am loved by Thee;
Before Thy worlds were framed, within Thy Book
Were all my members writ;
Upon my substance, yet
Unfashion'd, Thou didst look:
Then from Thy breath was lit
A furnace, deep and vast;
Yet didst thou weigh the blast
The while Thou feedest the keen flame, and see
The sum of things Thou didst prepare for me.
That I am loved by Thee;
Before Thy worlds were framed, within Thy Book
Were all my members writ;
Upon my substance, yet
Unfashion'd, Thou didst look:
Then from Thy breath was lit
A furnace, deep and vast;
Yet didst thou weigh the blast
103
The sum of things Thou didst prepare for me.
Need shall my witness be
That I am loved of Thee;
No work of Thine, my God, is from Thee thrown
With careless hand! sun, moon, and steadfast star,
And wave that moans and strives against its bar
Is held to Thee! the moss unto its stone.
Thou takest care for all! the spider clings
And lays her hold in palaces of kings,
The fierce beasts roam by night, uncouth and wild
And yet, beloved, Thou wilt not leave Thy child;
Thou wilt not break the reed
Which Thou hast bruised; the vine
Unclasp, that seeks to twine
Around the elm, nor bid its tendrils bleed;
Nor will Thy soul reject
Him whom Thou dost elect
To be Thine own through weakness, search, and need.
That I am loved of Thee;
No work of Thine, my God, is from Thee thrown
With careless hand! sun, moon, and steadfast star,
And wave that moans and strives against its bar
Is held to Thee! the moss unto its stone.
Thou takest care for all! the spider clings
And lays her hold in palaces of kings,
The fierce beasts roam by night, uncouth and wild
And yet, beloved, Thou wilt not leave Thy child;
Thou wilt not break the reed
Which Thou hast bruised; the vine
Unclasp, that seeks to twine
Around the elm, nor bid its tendrils bleed;
Nor will Thy soul reject
Him whom Thou dost elect
To be Thine own through weakness, search, and need.
104
Love shall my witness be
That I am loved of Thee:
The red pomegranate bursts not till it shows
Within its breast the dark, well-ripen'd seed;
The heart most nigh to breaking learns and knows
The fulness of its wealth through very need;
When fire is kindled on the earth it glows
In highest Heaven; none run uncall'd, none love
Unloved; below, above,
Thy works are many, but Thy Name is One:
Who speaks of doom, of Fate
Thou dost predestinate,
Through Love the soul that loves to be Thine own.
That I am loved of Thee:
The red pomegranate bursts not till it shows
Within its breast the dark, well-ripen'd seed;
The heart most nigh to breaking learns and knows
The fulness of its wealth through very need;
When fire is kindled on the earth it glows
In highest Heaven; none run uncall'd, none love
Unloved; below, above,
Thy works are many, but Thy Name is One:
Who speaks of doom, of Fate
Thou dost predestinate,
Through Love the soul that loves to be Thine own.
Thou hast given me a heart to desire,
Thou hast given me a soul to aspire,
A spirit to question and plead;
I ask not what Thou hast decreed;
I think but of love and of need;
Thou art rich, Thou art kind, Thou art free;
What joy shall be failing to me
Whom Thou lovest? Thy smile and Thy kiss
Can give me back all that I miss,
In Thy presence is fulness of bliss:
I ask not its nature! I know
It is life, it is youth, it is love,
It is all that is wanting below,
It is all that is waiting above.
Thou hast given me a soul to aspire,
A spirit to question and plead;
I ask not what Thou hast decreed;
I think but of love and of need;
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What joy shall be failing to me
Whom Thou lovest? Thy smile and Thy kiss
Can give me back all that I miss,
In Thy presence is fulness of bliss:
I ask not its nature! I know
It is life, it is youth, it is love,
It is all that is wanting below,
It is all that is waiting above.
Is it peace that I crave? is it rest?
Is it love that would bless and be blest?
All, all that Thou takest away,
Thou canst give me again, in a day,
In an hour, in a moment! Thy hand
Is full, and I open my breast
For the flower of my soul to expand!
Is it love that would bless and be blest?
All, all that Thou takest away,
Thou canst give me again, in a day,
In an hour, in a moment! Thy hand
Is full, and I open my breast
For the flower of my soul to expand!
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