Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

JUTZI SCHULTHEISS by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON

First Line: THE GIFT OF GOD WAS MINE; I LOST
Last Line: BECAUSE THE GIFT I HAD I LOST.
Subject(s): MYSTICISM;
TOSS, 1300

THE gift of God was mine; I lost
For aye the gift of Pentecost.

I never knew why God bestowed
On me the vision and the load;
But what He wills I have no will
To question, blindly following still
The hand that even from my birth
Hath shown me Heaven, forbidding Earth.
I was a child when first I drew
In sight of God; a subtle, new,
Faint happiness had drawn about
My soul, and shut the whole earth out.
Yet I was sick. I lay in bed
So weak I could not lift my head --
So weak, and yet so quite at rest,
Pillowed upon my Saviour's breast
I smiled; and suddenly I felt
Great wings encompass me, and dwelt
Silent awhile in awe and fear,
While swiftly nearer and more near
Descended God. A stream of white
Shining, intolerable light
Blinded mine eyes and all grew dim
While, stilled in trance, I dwelt with Him
A little time in perfect peace;
Then, fold by fold, the dark withdrew,
I felt the heavenly blessing cease,
And angels swiftly bear me through
The dizzy air in lightning flight
Till here I woke, and it was night.

My mother wept beside my bed,
My brothers prayed; for I was dead.
Then, when my soul was given back,
I cried, as wretches on the rack
Cry in the last quick wrench of pain,
And breathed, and looked, and lived again.
Ah me, what tears of joy there fell!
How they all cried, "A miracle!"
And kissed me given back to earth,
The dearer for that second birth
To her who bore me first. Ah me,
How glad we were! Then Anthony,
My brother, spoke: "What God has given,"
He said, "let us restore to Heaven."
And, as he spoke, beneath the rod
I bowed, and gave myself to God.

Not suddenly the gift returned.
Alas! methinks too much I yearned
For the old earthly joys, the home
That I had left for evermore;
The garden with its herbs, and store
Of hives filled full of honeycomb;
The lambs and calves that chiefly were,
Of all we had, my special care;
My brothers, too, all left behind,
All, for some other girl to find;
And she who loves me everywhere,
My mother, whom I often kissed
In absence with vain lips that missed
My mother more than God above.
Much bound was I with earthly love.
So slight my strength, I never could
Have freed myself from servitude.
But He who loves us saw my pain,
And with one blow struck free my chain.

Weeping I knelt within the gloom
One evening in my convent room,
Trying with all my heart to pray,
And sobbing that my thoughts would stray;
When suddenly again I felt
The unearthly light and rest; I dwelt
Rapt in mid-heaven the whole night through,
And through my cell the angels flew,
The angels sang, the angels shone.
The Saints in glory, one by one,
Floated to God; and under Him
Circled the shining Seraphim.

Now from that day my heart was free
And I was God's; then gradually
The convent learned the solemn truth,
And they were glad because my youth
Was pleasing in the sight of Him
Who filled my spirit to the brim.
They wrote my visions down and made
A treasure of the words I said.
And far and wide the news was spread
That I by God was visited.
Then many sought our convent's door,
And lands and dower began to pour
With blessings on our house; for thus
Men praised the Lord who favoured us.

For seven long years the gift was mine,
I often saw the angels shine
Suddenly down the cloister's dark
Deserted length at night; and oft
At the high mass I seemed to mark
A stranger music, high and soft,
That swam about the heavenly Cup,
And caught our ruder voices up;
And often, nay, indeed at will,
I would lie back and let the still
Cold trance creep over me -- and see
Mary and all the Saints flash by,
Till only God was left and I.

The gift of God was mine; I lost
For aye the gift of Pentecost.

Once, so possessed with God, I stood
In prayer within the apple-wood,
When some one softly called my name,
And shattered all my happy mood.
Towards me an ancient Sister came,
"Quick, Jutzi, to the hall!" she cried;
And swiftly after her I hied,
And swiftly reached the convent hall,
Now full of struggle and loud with brawl

For twenty roistering knights-at-arms
All bound for Zurich's tournament,
Had craved at noon the convent's alms,
And though we fasted, it being Lent,
No less we gave them food enew,
In the great barn without the gate --
Because they were so rough a crew --
Yet, having feasted long and late,
They stormed at last the postern door
And sacked the buttery for more;
Then one cried "Nassau!" Straightway one,
"Hapsburg!" The battle was begun.

So spake the Sister, saying "Pray
That Christ forgive their sins to-day!"

But I looked still before me where
The unseemly blows and clamour were,
And cold my heart grew, stiff and cold,
For I had prayed so much of old,
So vainly for these knights-at-arms,
Who filled the country with alarms --
Too often had I prayed in vain,
Too often put myself in pain
For these irreverent, brawling, rough,
And godless knights -- I had prayed enough!

"Let God," I cried, "do all He please;
I pray no more for such as these."

Then swift I turned and fled, as though
I fled from sin, and strife, and woe,
Who fled from God, and from His grace.
Nor stayed I till I reached the place
Where I had prayed an hour ago.

I stood again beneath the shade
The flowering apple-orchard made;
The grass was still as tall and green,
As fresh as ever it had been.
I heard the little rabbits rush
As swiftly through the wood; the thrush
Was singing still the self-same song,
Yet something there was changed and wrong.
Or through the grass or through my heart
Some deadly thing had passed athwart,
And left behind a blighting track;
For the old peace comes never back.
The gift of God was mine; I lost
For aye the gift of Pentecost,
God knows how I am humbled, how
There is in all the convent now
No novice half so weak and poor
In all esteem as I; the door
I keep, and wait on passers-by,
And lead the cattle out to browse,
And wash the beggars' feet; even I
Who was the glory of our house.

Yet dares my soul rejoice because,
Though I have failed, though I have sinned,
Not less eternal are the laws
Of God, no less the sun and wind
Declare His glory than before,
Though I am fallen, and faint, and poor.
Nay, should I fall to very Hell,
Yet am I not so miserable
As heathen are, who know not Him,
Who makes all other glories dim.
O God, believed in still though lost,
Yet fill me with Thy Holy Ghost --
Let but the vision fill mine eye
An instant ere the tear be dry;
Or, if Thou wilt, keep hid and far,
Yet art Thou still the secret star
To which my soul sets all her tides,
My soul that recks of nought besides.
Have not I found Thee in the fire
Of sunset's purple after-glow?
Have not I found Thee in the throe
Of anguished hearts that bleed and tire?
God, once so plain to see and hear,
Now never answering any tear.
O God, a guest within my house
Thou wert, my love thou wert, my spouse;
Yet never known so well as now,
Now the ash whitens on my brow,
And cinders on my head are tossed;
Because the gift I had I lost.



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