Songs for Sufferers :: :: University of Virginia Library

I can see nothing but my Lord, and often
My chamber and its furniture have fled,
And there is neither wall nor roof nor bed;
The ancient outlines fade away, and soften
Into the arms of Him who is our Head.
He is the room, my table and my chair,
And everything in Him looks fresh and fair.

The mirror is His very Face, and shineth
With splendour that no earthly glass can show,
It is a glimpse of heaven with Love aglow;
The squalid things of Nature He refineth,
There is no more an upper and below.
God fills each crevice, and the tiniest crack
Just in its measure gives His glory back.

I cannot turn or even raise a finger
That doth not touch and tremble with His Life,
I feel His pressure in the surgeon's knife;
In ecstasy when I would dare to linger,
The flesh and spirit are no more at strife.
Christ is my soul, my body, and my all,
And when I faint, on Him I only fall.