Love doth so grace and dignify
That beggars treat as king with king
Before the Throne of God most High:
Love recognises love's own cry,
And stoops to take love's offering.

A loving heart, tho' soiled and bruised;
A kindling heart, tho' cold before;
Who ever came and was refused
By Love? Do, Lord, as Thou art used
To do, and make me love Thee more.

" Launch out into the deep, " Christ spake of old
To Peter: and he launched into the deep;
Strengthened should tempest wake which lay asleep,
Strengthened to suffer heat or suffer cold.
Thus, in Christ's Prescience: patient to behold
A fall, a rise, a scaling Heaven's high steep;
Prescience of Love, which deigned to overleap
The mire of human errors manifold.
Lord, Lover of Thy Peter, and of him
Beloved with craving of a humbled heart
Which eighteen hundred years have satisfied;
Hath he his throne among Thy Seraphim

Lord Jesus Christ, our Wisdom and our Rest,
Who wisely dost reveal and wisely hide,
Grant us such grace in wisdom to abide
According to Thy Will whose Will is best.
Contented with Thine uttermost behest,
Too sweet for envy and too high for pride;
All simple-souled, dove-hearted and dove-eyed,
Soft-voiced, and satisfied in humble nest.
Wondering at the bounty of Thy Love
Which gives us wings of silver and of gold;
Wings folded close, yet ready to unfold
When Thou shalt say, " Winter is past and gone: "

Piteous my rhyme is
What while I muse of love and pain,
Of love misspent, of love in vain,
Of love that is not loved again:
And is this all then?
As long as time is,
Love loveth. Time is but a span,
The dalliance space of dying man:
And is this all immortals can?
The gain were small then.

Love loves for ever,
And finds a sort of joy in pain,
And gives with nought to take again,
And loves too well to end in vain:
Is the gain small then?
Love laughs at " never, "
Outlives our life, exceeds the span

Lord, grant me grace to love Thee in my pain,
Thro' all my disappointment love Thee still,
Thy love my strong foundation and my hill,
Tho' I be such as cometh not again,
A fading leaf, a spark upon the wane:
So evermore do Thou Thy perfect Will
Beloved thro' all my good, thro' all mine ill,
Beloved tho' all my love beside be vain.
If thus I love Thee, how wilt Thou love me,
Thou Who art greater than my heart? (Amen!)
Wilt Thou bestow a part, withhold a part?
The longing of my heart cries out to Thee,

Lord, make us all love all: that when we meet
Even myriads of earth's myriads at Thy Bar,
We may be glad as all true lovers are
Who having parted count reunion sweet.
Safe gathered home around Thy blessed Feet,
Come home by different roads from near or far,
Whether by whirlwind or by flaming car,
From pangs or sleep, safe folded round Thy seat.
Oh, if our brother's blood cry out at us,
How shall we meet Thee Who hast loved us all,
Thee Whom we never loved, not loving him?
The unloving cannot chant with Seraphim,

" Thou whom I love, for whom I died,
Lovest thou Me, My bride? " —
Low on my knees I love Thee, Lord,
Believed in and adored.

" That I love thee the proof is plain:
How dost thou love again? " —
In prayer, in toil, in earthly loss,
In a long-carried cross.

" Yea, thou dost love: yet one adept
Brings more for Me to accept. " —
I mould my will to match with Thine,
My wishes I resign.

" Thou givest much: then give the whole
For solace of My soul. " —
More would I give, if I could get:

Dear Lord, let me recount to Thee
Some of the great things Thou hast done
For me, even me
Thy little one.

It was not I that cared for Thee, —
But Thou didst set Thy heart upon
Me, even me
Thy little one.

And therefore was it sweet to Thee
To leave Thy Majesty and Throne,
And grow like me
A Little One,

A swaddled Baby on the knee
Of a dear Mother of Thine own,
Quite weak like me
Thy little one.

Thou didst assume my misery,
And reap the harvest I had sown,
Comforting me

The pain of love's a better fate
Than the body's best estate.
Saadi

THOU vermin slander, bred in abject minds
Of thoughts impure, by vile tongues animate,
Canker of conversation! couldst thou find
Nought but our love whereon to show thy hate?
Thou never wert, when we two were alone;
What canst thou witness then? thy base dull aid
Was useless in our conversation,
Where each meant more than could by both be said.
Whence hadst thou thy intelligence; from earth?
That part of us ne'er knew that we did love.
Or from the air? Our gentle sighs had birth
From such sweet raptures as to joy did move.