Whence comes this peace? In truth it doth surpass
Man's understanding — who can tell me whence?
Wretched I was and weak, and went to mass
In such dismay as unbelief will bring, —
A thing of iron with a heart of brass.
But even as I knelt a peace immense
Flooded my soul; a voice began to sing
Asperges me , and then I shall be clean,
Oh, sprinkle me with hyssop! if you can
Thereby make white again as Wayland snow
Drifted in orchards this worn spirit of mine,
And I will come again, thou white-robed man,
And through the mist of many things divine
Shall at thy Sursum Corda! leap from woe.