Classic Poem

TEXT.

I LIVE, BUT FROM MYSELF AM FAR AWAY ;
A ND HOPE TO REACH A LIFE SO HIGH ,
That I' M FOR EVER DYING BECAUSE I DO NOT DIE !

GLOSS.

I.

T HIS union of divinest love,
By which I live a life above,
Setting my heart at liberty,
My God to me enchains;
But then to see His majesty
In such a base captivity!
It so my spirit pains;
That evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

II.

Ah, what a length does life appear!
How hard to bear this exile here!
How hard, from weary day to day,
To pine without relief!
The yearning hope to break away,
From this my prison-house of clay,
Inspires so sharp a grief;
That evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

III.

Oh, what a bitter life is this,
Depriv'd of God, its only bliss!
And what though love delicious be,
Not so is hope deferr'd;
Ah, then, dear Lord, in charity,
This iron weight of misery
From my poor soul ungird;
For evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.
This only gives me life and strength
To know that die I must at length!
For hope insures me bliss divine
Through death, and death alone;
O Death! for thee, for thee I pine;
Sweet Death! of life the origin!
Ah, wing thee hither soon;
For evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

V.

And thou, fond Life, O, vex me not,
By still prolonging here my lot;
But know that love is urging me;
Know that the only way
To gain thee, is — by losing thee!
Come, then, O Death! come speedily,
And end thy long delay;
For evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

VI.

The life above, the life on high,
Alone is life in verity;
Nor can we life at all enjoy,
Till this poor life is o'er;
Then, O sweet Death! no longer fly
From me, who, ere my time to die,
Am dying evermore;
For evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

VII.

To Him who deigns in me to live,
What better gift have I to give,
O my poor earthly life, than thee?
Too glad of thy decay;
So but I may the sooner see
That face of sweetest majesty,
For which I pine away;
While evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

VIII.

Absent from Thee, my Saviour dear!
I call not life this living here;
But a long dying agony,
The sharpest I have known;
And I myself, myself to see
In such a rack of misery,
For very pity moan;
And ever, ever weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

IX.

The fish that from the brook is ta'en,
Soon finds an end of all its pain;
And agonies the worst to bear,
Are soonest spent and o'er;
But what acutest death can e'er
With this my painful life compare,
In torture evermore?
While evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

X.

When in the Sacred Host I see,
My God, Thy hidden majesty,
And peace begins to soothe my heart, —
Then comes redoubled pain,
To think, that here from Thee apart,
I cannot see Thee as Thou art,
But gaze, and gaze in vain;
While evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

XI.

When with the hope I comfort me,
At least in Heav'n of seeing Thee,
The thought that I may lose Thee yet
With anguish thrills me through;
And by a thousand fears beset,
My very hope inspires regret,
And multiplies my woe;
While evermore I weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

XII.

Ah, Lord! my light and living breath!
Take me, O take me, from this death,
And burst the bars that sever me
From my true life above;
Think, how I die Thy face to see,
And cannot live away from Thee,
O my eternal Love!
And ever, ever weep and sigh,
Dying because I do not die.

XIII.

I weary of this endless strife,
I weary of this dying life —
This living death — this heavy chain —
This torment of delay,
In which her sins my soul detain;
Ah, when shall it be mine? — Ah, when
With my last breath to say,
" No more I weep, no more I sigh,
I'm dying of desire to die? "

O Jesu, who Teresa's beauteous soul
With Thy love-dart didst fire,
Deep in my heart of hearts,
Her own sweet longing love of Thee inspire.