Phil. iii. 10.
I
would bear in my body the dying
Of
Him who has died for
me--
Here
share, O my Lord, Thy rejection
Ere
I sit on Thy throne with
Thee.
I
see Thee alone, broken-hearted,
Of
comforters findest Thou
none;
Yet
Thine was the gladness of Heaven,
The
love and the glory Thine
own.
The
gall and the vinegar only,
The
thirst of Thine agony
stills;
Yet
Thine were the streams and the fountains
Of
Thine everlasting
hills.
In
sorrow, in want, in dishonour,
How
dear are Thy footsteps to
me;
The
fountain is sweet to the thirsty,
But
sweeter is thirsting with
Thee.
Thus
to show to the world that rejects Thee,
To
show to the Angels
above,
How
blessed Thy yoke and Thy burden,
To
him who has tasted Thy
love.
The
maiden who gathereth roses,
Another,
another would
find;
So
sweet are the tracks of Thy sorrow
To
him who would follow
behind.
Thus
would I press on to the glory,
A
knight in the army of
God,
Whose
march will be onward and forward
Because
of the foes on the
road.
Above
me the stars in the heavens,
Stars
countless, so many they
be;
So
glorious, albeit so countless
The
sorrows I suffer for
Thee.
(H. Suso?)
