Spring comes with silent rush of leaf
Across the earth and cries,
“Lo, Love is risen!” But doubting Grief
Returns, “If with mine eyes
“I may not see the marks, nor reach
My hand into his side,
I will not hear your lips that preach
Love raised and glorified.
“Except by all the wounds that brake
His heart, and marred his brow
Most grievously for sorrow’s sake,
How shall I know him now?”
Love came, and said. “Reach hither, Grief,
Thy hand into my side:
Oh, slow of heart to win belief,
Seeing that for grief I died.
“Lo, all the griefs of which I died
Rise with me from the dead!”
Then Grief drew near, and touched the side,
And touched the wounds that bled,
And cried, “My God, O blessed sign,
O Body raised, made whole,
By this I know that thou art mine,
Upholder of my soul!”
No comments:
Post a Comment