O living flame of love!
O tender wounding wonder,
Wounding my soul in its most secret centre!
I do not smart enough;
Perfect thy work; asunder
Tear thou the veil in this sublime encounter.

Sweet burning of heart's kernel!
O delicious wound!
O hand most bland! o touch as soft as breath,
Tasting of life eternal,
And all my debt condoned,
How, slaying, hast thou given life for death!

O burning lamps of pure
Fire! whereof the glitter,
Lighting the deepest caverns of the sense,
The which were blind, obscure,
Give light and heat together
To the beloved, of unknown excellence.

How amorous and mild
Hast thou my breast renewed,
Where thou dost dwell alone and secretly!
In thy sweet breathing, filled
With glory and all good
How daintily hast thou enamoured me!