O HIDE ME IN THY LOVE

O hide me in Thy love, secure
  From this earth-clinging meanness. 
    Lave my uncleanness
In Thy compassionating love!

Bury this treachery as deep
  As mercy is enrooted. 
    My days ill-fruited
Shake till the shrivelled burden fall.

Put by those righteous arrows, Lord,
  Put even Thy justice by Thee;
    So I come nigh Thee
As came the Magdalen to Thy feet.

And like a heavy stone that’s cast
  In a pool, on Thee I throw me,
    And feel o’erflow me
Ripples of pity, deep waves of love.

PRAYER TO MY LORD

  If ever Thou didst love me, love me now,
  When round me beat the flattering vans of life,
  Kissing with rapid breath my lifted brow. 
  Love me, if ever, when the murmur of strife,
  In each dark byway of my being creeps,
  When pity and pride, passion and passion’s loss
  Wash wavelike round the world’s eternal cross,
Till ’mid my fears a new-born love indignant leaps.

  If ever Thou canst love me, love me yet,
  When sweet, impetuous loves within me stir
  And the frail portals of my spirit fret—­
  The love of love, that makes Heaven heavenlier,
  The love of earth, of birds, children and light,
  Love of this bitter, lovely native land.... 
  O, love me when sick with all these I stand
And Death’s far-rumoured wings beat on the lonely night.

THE TREE

    Oh, like a tree
Let me grow up to Thee! 
    And like a Tree
Send down my roots to Thee.

    Let my leaves stir
In each sigh of the air,
    My branches be
Lively and glad in Thee;

    Each leaf a prayer,
And green fire everywhere ... 
    And all from Thee
The sap within the Tree.

    And let Thy rain
Fall—­or as joy or pain
    So that I be
Yet unforgot of Thee.

    Then shall I sing
The new song of Thy Spring,
    Every leaf of me
Whispering Love in Thee!

EARTH TO EARTH

What is the soul?  Is it the wind
Among the branches of the mind? 
Is it the sea against Time’s shore
Breaking and broken evermore? 
Is it the shore that breaks Time’s sea,
The verge of vast Eternity? 
And in the night is it the soul
Sleep needs must hush, must needs kiss whole? 
Or does the soul, secure from sleep,
Safe its bright sanctities yet keep? 
And oh, before the body’s death
Shall the confined soul ne’er gain breath,
But ever to this serpent flesh
Subdue its alien self afresh? 
Is it a bird that shuns earth’s night,
Or makes with song earth’s darkness bright? 
Is it indeed a thought of God,
Or merest clod-fellow to clod? 
A thought of God, and yet subdued
To any passion’s apish mood? 
Itself a God—­and yet, O God,
As like to earth as clod to clod?