After This the Judgement
As eager homebound traveller to the goal,Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main,Or martyr panting for an aureole,My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attainThat hidden mansion of perpetual peaceWhere keen desire and hope dwell free from pain:That gate stands open of perennial ease;I view the glory till I partly long,Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these.O passing Angel, speed me with a song, 10A melody of heaven to reach my heartAnd rouse me to the race and make me strong;Till in such music I take up my partSwelling those Hallelujahs full of rest,One, tenfold, hundredfold, with heavenly art,Fulfilling north and south and east and west,Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable,All blent in one yet each one manifest;Each one distinguished and beloved as wellAs if no second voice in earth or heaven 20Were lifted up the Love of God to tell.Ah, Love of God, which Thine own Self hast givenTo me most poor, and made me rich in love,Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven,Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above,My treasure ad my heart store Thou in Thee,Brood over me with yearnings of a dove;Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me;Love me as very mother loves her son,Her sucking firstborn fondled on her knee: 30Yea, more than mother loves her little one;For, earthly, even a mother may forgetAnd feel no pity for its piteous moan;But thou, O Love of God, remember yet,Through the dry desert, through the waterflood(Life, death) until the Great White Throne is set.If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cudOf sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy graceAnd ofttimes strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood,How shall I then stand up before Thy face 40When from Thine eyes repentance shall be hidAnd utmost Justice stand in Mercy’s place:When every sin I thought or spoke or didShall meet me at the inexorable bar,And there be no man standing in the midTo plead for me; while star fallen after starWith heaven and earth are like a ripened shock,And all time’s mighty works and wonders areConsumed as in a moment; when no rockRemains to fall on me, no tree to hide, 50But I stand all creation’s gazing-stockExposed and comfortless on every side,Placed trembling in the final balancesWhose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried?—Ah Love of God, if greater love than thisHath no man, that a man die for his friend,And if such love of love Thine Own Love is,Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end;Redeem me from the irrevocable past;Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend; 60Yea seek with piercèd feet, yea hold me fastWith piercèd hands whose wounds were made by love;Not what I am, remember what Thou wastWhen darkness hid from Thee Thy heavens above,And sin Thy Father’s Face, while thou didst drinkThe bitter cup of death, didst taste thereofFor every man; while Thou wast nigh to sinkBeneath the intense intolerable rod,Grown sick of love; not what I am, but thinkThy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my God. 70