Part 1

VERSES By CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI

“OUT OF THE DEEP HAVE I CALLED UNTO THEE, O LORD.”

VERSES.

“OUT OF THE DEEP HAVE I CALLED UNTO THEE, O LORD.”

Alone Lord God, in Whom our trust and peace, Our love and our desire, glow bright with hope; Lift us above this transitory scope Of earth, these pleasures that begin and cease, This moon which wanes, these seasons which decrease; We turn to Thee; as on an eastern slope Wheat feels the dawn beneath night’s lingering cope, Bending and stretching sunward ere it sees. Alone Lord God, we see not yet we know; By love we dwell with patience and desire, And loving so and so desiring pray; Thy Will be done in earth as heaven to-day; As yesterday it was, tomorrow so; Love offering love on love’s self-feeding fire.

Seven vials hold Thy wrath: but what can hold Thy mercy save Thine own Infinitude Boundlessly overflowing with all good, All lovingkindness, all delights untold? Thy Love, of each created love the mould; Thyself, of all the empty plenitude; Heard of at Ephrata, found in the Wood, For ever One, the Same, and Manifold. Lord, give us grace to tremble with that dove Which Ark-bound winged its solitary way And over past the Deluge in a day, Whom Noah’s hand pulled in and comforted: For we who much more hang upon Thy Love Behold its shadow in the deed he did.

“Where neither rust nor moth doth corrupt.”

Nerve us with patience, Lord, to toil or rest, Toiling at rest on our allotted level; Unsnarled, unsacred by world or flesh or devil, Fulfilling the good Will of Thy behest: Not careful here to hoard, not here to revel; But waiting for our treasure and our zest Beyond the fading splendour of the west, Beyond this deathstruck life and deathlier evil. Not with the sparrow building here a house: But with the swallow tabernacling so As still to poise alert to rise and go On eager wings with wing-outspeeding wills Beyond earth’s gourds and past her almond boughs, Past utmost bound of the everlasting hills.

“As the sparks fly upwards.”

Lord, grant us wills to trust Thee with such aim Of hope and passionate craving of desire, That we may mount aspiring, and aspire Still while we mount; rejoicing in Thy Name Yesterday, this day, day by day the Same: So sparks fly upward scaling heaven by fire, Still mount and still attain not, yet draw nigher While they have being to their fountain flame. To saints who mount, the bottomless abyss Is as mere nothing, they have set their face Onward and upward toward that blessed place Where man rejoices with his God, and soul With soul, in the unutterable kiss Of peace for every victor at the goal.

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, Bear harp of gold or palm victorious, Or face the Vision Beatifical.

O Lord, I am ashamed to seek Thy Face As tho’ I loved Thee as Thy saints love Thee: Yet turn from those Thy lovers, look on me, Disgrace me not with uttermost disgrace; But pour on me ungracious, pour Thy grace To purge my heart and bid my will go free, Till I too taste Thy hidden Sweetness, see Thy hidden Beauty in the holy place. O Thou Who callest sinners to repent, Call me Thy sinner unto penitence, For many sins grant me the greater love: Set me above the waterfloods, above Devil and shifting world and fleshly sense, Thy Mercy’s all-amazing monument.

It is not death, O Christ, to die for Thee: Nor is that silence of a silent land Which speaks Thy praise so all may understand: Darkness of death makes Thy dear lovers see Thyself Who Wast and Art and Art to Be; Thyself, more lovely than the lovely band Of saints who worship Thee on either hand, Loving and loved thro’ all eternity. Death is not death, and therefore do I hope: Nor silence silence; and I therefore sing A very humble hopeful quiet psalm, Searching my heart-field for an offering; A handful of sun-courting heliotrope, Of myrrh a bundle, and a little balm.

Lord, grant us eyes to see and ears to hear, And souls to love and minds to understand, And steadfast faces toward the Holy Land, And confidence of hope, and filial fear, And citizenship where Thy saints appear Before Thee heart in heart and hand in hand, And Alleluias where their chanting band As waters and as thunders fill the sphere. Lord, grant us what Thou wilt, and what Thou wilt Deny, and fold us in Thy peaceful fold: Not as the world gives, give to us Thine own: Inbuild us where Jerusalem is built With walls of jasper and with streets of gold, And Thou Thyself, Lord Christ, for Corner Stone.

“Cried out with tears.”

Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief: Lord, I repent, help mine impenitence: Hide not Thy Face from me, nor spurn me hence, Nor utterly despise me in my grief; Nor say me nay, who worship with the thief Bemoaning my so long lost innocence:— Ah me! my penitence a fresh offence, Too tardy and too tepid and too brief. Lord, must I perish, I who look to Thee? Look Thou upon me, bid me live, not die; Say “Come,” say not “Depart,” tho’ Thou art just: Yea, Lord, be mindful how out of the dust I look to Thee while Thou dost look on me, Thou Face to face with me and Eye to eye.

O Lord, on Whom we gaze and dare not gaze, Increase our faith that gazing we may see, And seeing love, and loving worship Thee Thro’ all our days, our long and lengthening days. O Lord, accessible to prayer and praise, Kind Lord, Companion of the two or three, Good Lord, be gracious to all men and me, Lighten our darkness and amend our ways. Call up our hearts to Thee, that where Thou art Our treasure and our heart may dwell at one: Then let the pallid moon pursue her sun, So long as it shall please Thee, far apart,— Yet art Thou with us, Thou to Whom we run, We hand in hand with Thee and heart in heart.

“I will come and heal him.”

O Lord God, hear the silence of each soul, Its cry unutterable of ruth and shame, Its voicelessness of self-contempt and blame: Nor suffer harp and palm and aureole Of multitudes who praise Thee at the goal, To set aside Thy poor and blind and lame; Nor blazing Seraphs utterly to outflame The spark that flies up from each earthly coal. My price Thy priceless Blood; and therefore I Price of Thy priceless Blood am precious so That good things love me in their love of Thee: I comprehend not why Thou lovedst me With Thy so mighty Love; but this I know, No man hath greater love than thus to die.

Ah Lord, Lord, if my heart were right with Thine As Thine with mine, then should I rest resigned Awaiting knowledge with a quiet mind Because of heavenly wisdom’s anodyne. Then would Thy Love be more to me than wine, Then should I seek being sure at length to find, Then should I trust to Thee all humankind Because Thy Love of them is more than mine. Then should I stir up hope and comfort me Remembering Thy Cradle and Thy Cross; How Heaven with us is Thy one only Heaven, Heaven shared with us thro’ all eternity, With us long sought, long loved, and much forgiven.

“The gold of that land is good.”

I long for joy, O Lord, I long for gold, I long for all Thou profferest to me, I long for the unimagined manifold. Abundance laid up in Thy treasury. I long for pearls, but not from mundane sea; I long for palms, but not from earthly mould; Yet in all else I long for, long for Thee, Thyself to hear and worship and behold. For Thee, beyond the splendour of that day Where all is day and is not any night; For Thee, beyond refreshment of that rest To which tired saints press on for its delight:— Or if not thus for Thee, yet Thee I pray To make me long so till Thou make me blest.

Weigh all my faults and follies righteously, Omissions and commissions, sin on sin; Make deep the scale, O Lord, to weigh them in; Yea, set the Accuser vulture-eyed to see All loads ingathered which belong to me: That so in life the judgement may begin, And Angels learn how hard it is to win One solitary sinful soul to Thee. I have no merits for a counterpoise: Oh vanity my work and hastening day, What can I answer to the accusing voice? Lord, drop Thou in the counterscale alone One Drop from Thine own Heart, and overweigh My guilt, my folly, even my heart of stone.

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, The hungering thirsting longing of my heart: What I forewent wilt Thou not grant me then?

Lord, make me one with Thine own faithful ones, Thy Saints who love Thee and are loved by Thee; Till the day break and till the shadows flee, At one with them in alms and orisons; At one with him who toils and him who runs, And him who yearns for union yet to be; At one with all who throng the crystal sea And wait the setting of our moons and suns. Ah, my beloved ones gone on before, Who looked not back with hand upon the plough! If beautiful to me while still in sight, How beautiful must be your aspects now; Your unknown, well-known aspects in that light Which clouds shall never cloud for evermore.

“Light of Light.”

O Christ our Light, Whom even in darkness we (So we look up) discern and gaze upon, O Christ, Thou loveliest Light that ever shone, Thou Light of Light, Fount of all lights that be, Grant us clear vision of Thy Light to see, Tho’ other lights elude us, or begone Into the secret of oblivion, Or gleam in places higher than man’s degree. Who looks on Thee looks full on his desire, Who looks on Thee looks full on Very Love: Looking, he answers well, “What lack I yet?” His heat and cold wait not on earthly fire, His wealth is not of earth to lose or get; Earth reels, but he has stored his store above.

CHRIST OUR ALL IN ALL.

“The ransomed of the Lord.”

Thy lovely saints do bring Thee love, Incense and joy and gold; Fair star with star, fair dove with dove, Beloved by Thee of old. I, Master, neither star nor dove, Have brought Thee sins and tears; Yet I too bring a little love Amid my flaws and fears. A trembling love that faints and fails Yet still is love of Thee, A wondering love that hopes and hails Thy boundless Love of me; Love kindling faith and pure desire, Love following on to bliss, A spark, O Jesu, from Thy fire, A drop from Thine abyss.

Lord, we are rivers running to Thy sea, Our waves and ripples all derived from Thee: A nothing we should have, a nothing be, Except for Thee.

Sweet are the waters of Thy shoreless sea, Make sweet our waters that make haste to Thee; Pour in Thy sweetness, that ourselves may be Sweetness to Thee.

“In exceeding bitter cry.”

Contempt and pangs and haunting fears— Too late for hope, too late for ease, Too late for rising from the dead; Too late, too late to bend my knees, Or bow my head, Or weep, or ask for tears.

Hark!...One I hear Who calls to me: “Give Me thy thorn and grief and scorn, Give Me thy ruin and regret. Press on thro’ darkness toward the morn: One loves thee yet: Have I forgotten thee?”

Lord, Who art Thou? Lord, is it Thou My Lord and God Lord Jesus Christ? How said I that I sat alone And desolate and unsufficed? Surely a stone Would raise Thy praises now!

O Lord, when Thou didst call me, didst Thou know My heart disheartened thro’ and thro’, Still hankering after Egypt full in view Where cucumbers and melons grow? —“Yea, I knew.”—

But, Lord, when Thou didst choose me, didst Thou know How marred I was and withered too, Nor rose for sweetness nor for virtue rue, Timid and rash, hasty and slow? —“Yea, I knew.”—

My Lord, when Thou didst love me, didst Thou know How weak my efforts were, how few, Tepid to love and impotent to do, Envious to reap while slack to sow? —“Yea, I knew.”—

Good Lord, Who knowest what I cannot know And dare not know, my false, my true, My new, my old; Good Lord, arise and do If loving Thou hast known me so. —“Yea, I knew.”—

“Thou, God, seest me.”

Ah me, that I should be Exposed and open evermore to Thee!— “Nay, shrink not from My light, And I will make thee glorious in My sight With the overcoming Shulamite.”— Yea, Lord, Thou moulding me.

...Without a hiding-place To hide me from the terrors of Thy Face.— “Thy hiding-place is here In Mine own heart, wherefore the Roman spear For thy sake I accounted dear.”— My Jesus! King of Grace.

...Without a veil, to give Whiteness before Thy Face that I might live.— “Am I too poor to dress Thee in My royal robe of righteousness? Challenge and prove My Love’s excess.”— Give, Lord, I will receive.

...Without a pool wherein To wash my piteous self and make me clean.— “My Blood hath washed away Thy guilt, and still I wash thee day by day: Only take heed to trust and pray.”— Lord, help me to begin.

Lord Jesus, who would think that I am Thine? Ah, who would think Who sees me ready to turn back or sink, That Thou art mine?

I cannot hold Thee fast tho’ Thou art mine: Hold Thou me fast, So earth shall know at last and heaven at last That I am Thine.

“The Name of Jesus.”

Jesus, Lord God from all eternity, Whom love of us brought down to shame, I plead Thy Life with Thee, I plead Thy Death, I plead Thy Name.

Jesus, Lord God of every living soul, Thy Love exceeds its uttered fame, Thy Will can make us whole, I plead Thyself, I plead Thy Name.

Lord God of Hosts, most Holy and most High, What made Thee tell Thy Name of Love to me? What made Thee live our life? what made Thee die? “My love of thee.”

I pitched so low, Thou so exceeding high, What was it made Thee stoop to look at me While flawless sons of God stood wondering by? “My love of thee.”

What is there which can lift me up on high That we may dwell together, Thou with me, When sin and death and suffering are gone by? “My love of thee.”

O Lord, what is that best thing hid on high Which makes heaven heaven as Thou hast promised me, Yea, makes it Christ to live and gain to die? “My love of thee.”

Lord, what have I that I may offer Thee? Look, Lord, I pray Thee, and see.—

What is it thou hast got? Nay, child, what is it thou hast not? Thou hast all gifts that I have given to thee: Offer them all to Me, The great ones and the small, I will accept them one and all.—

I have a will, good Lord, but it is marred; A heart both crushed and hard; Not such as these the gift Clean-handed lovely saints uplift.—

Nay, child, but wilt thou judge for Me? I crave not thine, but thee.—

Ah, Lord, Who lovest me! Such as I have now give I Thee.

If I should say “my heart is in my home,” I turn away from that high halidom Where Jesus sits: for nowhere else But with its treasure dwells The heart: this Truth and this experience tells.

If I should say “my heart is in a grave,” I turn away from Jesus risen to save: I slight that death He died for me; I, too, deny to see His beauty and desirability.

O Lord, Whose Heart is deeper than my heart, Draw mine to Thine to worship where Thou art; For Thine own glory join the twain Never to part again, Nor to have lived nor to have died in vain.

Leaf from leaf Christ knows; Himself the Lily and the Rose:

Sheep from sheep Christ tells; Himself the Shepherd, no one else:

Star and star He names, Himself outblazing all their flames:

Dove by dove, He calls To set each on the golden walls;

Drop by drop, He counts The flood of ocean as it mounts:

Grain by grain, His hand Numbers the innumerable sand.

Lord, I lift to Thee In peace what is and what shall be;

Lord, in peace I trust To Thee all spirits and all dust.

Lord, carry me.—Nay, but I grant thee strength To walk and work thy way to Heaven at length.—

Lord, why then am I weak?—Because I give Power to the weak, and bid the dying live.—

Lord, I am tired.—He hath not much desired The goal, who at the starting-point is tired.—

Lord, dost Thou know?—I know what is in man; What the flesh can, and what the spirit can.—

Lord, dost Thou care?—Yea, for thy gain or loss So much I cared, it brought Me to the Cross.—

Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.— Good is the word; but rise, for life is brief.

The follower is not greater than the Chief: Follow thou Me along My way of grief.

Lord, I am here.—But, child, I look for thee Elsewhere and nearer Me.— Lord, that way moans a wide insatiate sea: How can I come to Thee?— Set foot upon the water, test and see If thou canst come to Me.— Couldst Thou not send a boat to carry me, Or dolphin swimming free?— Nay, boat nor fish if thy will faileth thee: For My Will too is free.— Lord, I am afraid.—Take hold on Me: I am stronger than the sea.— Save, Lord, I perish.—I have hold of thee, I made and rule the sea, I bring thee to the haven where thou wouldst be.

New creatures; the Creator still the Same For ever and for ever: therefore we Win hope from God’s unsearchable decree And glorify His still unchanging Name. We too are still the same: and still our claim, Our trust, our stay, is Jesus, none but He: He still the Same regards us, and still we Mount toward Him in old love’s accustomed flame. We know Thy wounded Hands: and Thou dost know Our praying hands, our hands that clasp and cling To hold Thee fast and not to let Thee go. All else be new then, Lord, as Thou hast said: Since it is Thou, we dare not be afraid, Our King of old and still our Self-same King.

“Kings of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

Is this that Name as ointment poured forth For which the virgins love Thee; King of kings And Lord of lords? All Seraphs clad in wings; All Cherubs and all Wheels which south and north, Which east and west turn not in going forth; All many-semblanced ordered Spirits, as rings Of rainbow in unwonted fashionings, Might answer, Yes. But we from south and north, From east and west, a feeble folk who came By desert ways in quest of land unseen, A promised land of pasture ever green And ever springing ever singing wave, Know best Thy Name of Jesus: Blessed Name, Man’s life and resurrection from the grave.

Thy Name, O Christ, as incense streaming forth Sweetens our names before God’s Holy Face; Luring us from the south and from the north Unto the sacred place.

In Thee God’s promise is Amen and Yea. What art Thou to us? Prize of every lot, Shepherd and Door, our Life and Truth and Way:— Nay, Lord, what art Thou not?

“The Good Shepherd.”

O Shepherd with the bleeding Feet, Good Shepherd with the pleading Voice, What seekest Thou from hill to hill? Sweet were the valley pastures, sweet The sound of flocks that bleat their joys, And eat and drink at will. Is one worth seeking, when Thou hast of Thine Ninety and nine?—

How should I stay my bleeding Feet, How should I hush my pleading Voice? I Who chose death and clomb a hill, Accounting gall and wormwood sweet, That hundredfold might bud My joys For love’s sake and good will. I seek My one, for all there bide of Mine Ninety and nine.

“Rejoice with me.”

Little Lamb, who lost thee?— I myself, none other.— Little Lamb, who found thee?— Jesus, Shepherd, Brother. Ah, Lord, what I cost Thee! Canst Thou still desire?— Still Mine arms surround thee, Still I lift thee higher, Draw thee nigher.

Shall not the judge of all the earth do right? Yea, Lord, altho’ Thou say me nay: Shall not His Will be to me life and light? Yea, Lord, altho’ Thou slay.

Yet, Lord, remembering turn and sift and see, Remember tho’ Thou sift me thro’, Remember my desire, remember me, Remember, Lord, and do.

Me and my gift: kind Lord, behold, Be not extreme to test or sift; Thy Love can turn to fire and gold Me and my gift.

Myself and mine to Thee I lift: Gather us to Thee from the cold Dead outer world where dead things drift.

If much were mine, then manifold Should be the offering of my thrift: I am but poor, yet love makes bold Me and my gift.

“He cannot deny Himself.”

Love still is Love, and doeth all things well, Whether He show me heaven or hell Or earth in her decay Passing away On a day.

Love still is Love, tho’ He should say, “Depart,” And break my incorrigible heart, And set me out of sight Widowed of light In the night.

Love still is Love, is Love, if He should say, “Come,” on that uttermost dread day; “Come,” unto very me, “Come where I be, Come and see.”

Love still is Love, whatever comes to pass: O Only Love, make me Thy glass, Thy pleasure to fulfil By loving still Come what will.

“Stain from the foundation of the world.”

Slain for man, slain for me, O Lamb of God, look down; Loving to the end look down, behold and see: Turn Thine Eyes of pity, turn not on us Thy frown, O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.

Mark the wrestling, mark the race for indeed a crown; Mark our chariots how we drive them heavily; Mark the foe upon our track blasting thundering down, O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.

Set as a Cloudy Pillar against them Thy frown, Thy Face of Light toward us gracious utterly; Help granting, hope granting, until Thou grant a crown, O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.

Lord Jesu, Thou art sweetness to my soul: I to myself am bitterness: Regard my fainting struggle toward the goal, Regard my manifold distress, O Sweet Jesu.

Thou art Thyself my goal, O Lord my King: Stretch forth Thy hand to save my soul: What matters more or less of journeying? While I touch Thee I touch my goal, O Sweet Jesu.

I, Lord, Thy foolish sinner low and small, Lack all. His heart too high was set Who asked, What lack I yet? Woe’s me at my most woeful pass! I, Lord, who scarcely dare adore, Weep sore: Steeped in this rotten world I fear to rot. Alas! what lack I not? Alas! alas for me I alas More and yet more!—

Nay, stand up on thy feet, betaking thee To Me. Bring fear; but much more bring Hope to thy patient King: What, is My pleasure in thy death? I loved that youth who little knew The true Width of his want, yet worshipped with goodwill: So love I thee, and still Prolong thy day of grace and breath. Rise up and do.—

Lord, let me know mine end, and certify When I Shall die and have to stand Helpless on Either Hand, Cut off, cut off, my day of grace.— Not so: for what is that to thee? I see The measure and the number of thy day: Keep patience, tho’ I slay; Keep patience till thou see My Face. Follow thou Me.

“Because He first loved us.”

I was hungry, and Thou feddest me; Yea, Thou gavest drink to slake my thirst: O Lord, what love gift can I offer Thee Who hast loved me first?—

Feed My hungry brethren for My sake; Give them drink, for love of them and Me: Love them as I loved thee, when Bread I brake In pure love of thee.—

Yea, Lord, I will serve them by Thy grace; Love Thee, seek Thee, in them; wait and pray: Yet would I love Thyself, Lord, face to face, Heart to heart, one day.—

Let today fulfil its daily task, Fill thy heart and hand to them and Me: Tomorrow thou shalt ask, and shalt not ask Half I keep for thee.

Lord, hast Thou so loved us, and will not we Love Thee with heart and mind and strength and soul, Desiring Thee beyond our glorious goal, Beyond the heaven of heavens desiring Thee? Each saint, all saints cry out: Yea me, yea me, Thou hast desired beyond an aureole, Beyond Thy many Crowns, beyond the whole Ninety and nine unwandering family. Souls in green pastures of the watered land, Faint pilgrim souls wayfaring thro the sand, Abide with Thee and in Thee are at rest: Yet evermore, kind Lord, renew Thy quest After new wanderers; such as once Thy Hand Gathered, Thy Shoulders bore, Thy Heart caressed.