| | There Thou wilt show me what my soul desired; |
| There Thou wilt give at once, O my Life, what Thou gavest me the other day! |
| (St. John of the Cross. Spiritual Canticle, Stanza xxxviii) |
THERE is a rapture that my soul desires, | |
| There is a something that I cannot name; | |
| I know not after what my soul aspires, | |
| Nor guess from whence the restless longing came; | |
| But ever from my childhood have I felt it, | 5 |
| In all things beautiful and all things gay, | |
| And ever has its gentle, unseen presence | |
| Fallen, like a shadow-cloud, across my way | |
| |
| It is the melody of all sweet music, | |
| In all fair forms it is the hidden grace; | 10 |
| In all I love, a something that escapes me, | |
| Flies my pursuit, and ever veils its face. | |
| I see it in the woodland’s summer beauty, | |
| I hear it in the breathing of the air; | |
| I stretch my hands to feel for it, and grasp it, | 15 |
| But ah! too well I know, it is not there. | |
| |
| In sunset-hours, when all the earth is golden, | |
| And rosy clouds are hastening to the west, | |
| I catch a waving gleam, and then ’tis vanished, | |
| And the old longing once more fills my breast. | 20 |
| |
| It is not pain, although the fire consumes me, | |
| Bound up with memories of my happiest years; | |
| It steals into my deepest joys—O mystery! | |
| It mingles, too, with all my saddest tears. | |
| |
| Once, only once, there rose the heavy curtain, | 25 |
| The clouds rolled back, and for too brief a space | |
| I drank in joy as from a living fountain, | |
| And seemed to gaze upon it, face to face: | |
| But of that day and hour who shall venture | |
| With lips untouched by seraph’s fire to tell? | 30 |
| I saw Thee, O my Life! I heard, I touched Thee,— | |
| Then o’er my soul once more the darkness fell. | |
| |
| The darkness fell, and all the glory vanished; | |
| I strove to call it back, but all in vain: | |
| O rapture! to have seen it for a moment! | 35 |
| O anguish! that it never came again! | |
| That lightning-flash of joy that seemed eternal, | |
| Was it indeed but wandering fancy’s dream? | |
| Ah, surely no! that day the heavens opened, | |
| And on my soul there fell a golden gleam. | 40 |
| |
| O Thou, my Life, give me what then Thou gavest! | |
| No angel vision do I ask to see, | |
| I seek no ecstasy of mystic rapture, | |
| Naught, naught, my Lord, my Life, but only Thee! | |
| That golden gleam hath purged my sight, revealing, | 45 |
| In the fair ray reflected from above, | |
| Thyself, beyond all sight, beyond all feeling, | |
| The hidden Beauty, and the hidden Love. | |
| |
| As the hart panteth for the water-brooks, | |
| And seeks the shades whence cooling fountains burst; | 50 |
| Even so for Thee, O Lord, my spirit fainteth, | |
| Thyself alone hath power to quench its thirst. | |
| |
| Give me what then Thou gavest, for I seek it | |
| No longer in Thy creatures, as of old, | |
| I strive no more to grasp the empty shadow, | 55 |
| The secret of my life is found and told! | |
