My Lord, my Love! in pleasant pain How often have I said: Blessed that John, who on Thy Breast Laid down his head. It was that contact all Divine Transformed him from above, And made him amongst men the man To show forth holy love. Yet shall I envy blessed John? Nay, not so verily, Now that Thou, Lord, both Man & God Dost dwell in me: Upbuilding with Thy Manhood's might My frail humanity; Yea, Thy Divinehood pouring forth In fulness filling me. Me, Lord, Thy temple consecrate, Even me to Thee alone; Lord reign upon my willing heart Which is Thy throne: To Thee the Seraphim fall down Adoring round Thy house; For which of them hath tasted Thee, My Manna & my Spouse? Now that Thy Life lives in my soul And sways & warms it thro', I scarce seem lesser than the world, Thy temple too. O God Who dwellest in my heart, My God Who fillest me, The broad immensity itself Hath not encompassed Thee. |