Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SWEETNESS OF JESUS, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SWEETNESS OF JESUS, by                    
First Line: "lord christ, might I thy sweetness see"
Last Line: "to dwell with thee, world without end! Amen"
Subject(s): Jesus Christ


LORD CHRIST, might I Thy Sweetness see,
Thy Grace to me wouldst truly show,
Bitter all earthly love should be,
Thy Love alone I fain would know.
Teach Thou this lesson, Lord, to me,
To long in such wise here below
That all my heart be set on Thee,
And all my yearning t'ward Thee flow.

My Lord of love most worthy is
To souls who may Him soothly see,
To love Him rightly were true bliss,
The King of Love y-clept is He.
By chains of true love wrought, I wis,
Fast bound to Him I fain would be,
That so my heart be wholly His, --
For none save Him rejoiceth me!

If for love shewn I love my kin,
Why, then, it seemeth to my thought,
I should of right with Him begin
Whose Love hath fashioned me of naught.
His Likeness set my soul within --
This goodly world for me hath wrought --
As Father, seeks my love to win,
And me for heir of Heaven hath bought.

A Mother's love to me He gave
Who, ere my birth, to me took heed,
That babe in Baptism's font did lave
Who erst was soiled thro' Adam's deed.
Rich Food and nourishment He gave,
For with His Flesh He did me feed,
A better Food no man may crave --
To lasting Life He doth me lead.

Brother and Sister is He still
For that He spake and taught this lore;
That they who do His Father's Will
His Brethren are they, evermore.
He chose mankind this lot to fill --
I set my trust on Him therefore,
That He will keep me safe from ill
And heal me from His Mercy's store.

His Love surpasseth, so I wis,
All earthly love that may be here,
My spouse, both God and Man He is,
I earth-born wretch, must hold Him dear!
For Heaven and Earth be wholly His --
A mighty Lord is He to fear --
His title is the King of Bliss --
To Him I fain would draw me near.

Yea, for His Love I needs must long
Since He hath mine so dearly bought,
When I had sinned, and wrought Him wrong,
From Heaven to Earth my soul He sought.
As Man, was born mankind among,
And all His glory held for naught;
He strove with prayer and crying strong
Ere me again to bliss He brought.

When I was thrall, to make me free
His Love from Heaven to Earth Him led,
Naught but my love He asked in fee,
For me His Life with Death was wed.
When with my foe He fought for me
Wounded He was, and sorely bled;
His precious Blood, as on the Tree
He hung, for me was freely shed.

Blood-stained He was, and stripped all bare
Who sometime was all fair to see;
His Heart with spear was pierced there,
His wide Wounds gaped full piteously.
He gave His Life, and naught would spare,
That all my guilt should ransomed be;
Thus I his suffering fain would share
And hold His Death most dear to me.

For grief my heart must break in twain
If to His Love I take good heed,
The cause was I of all His pain,
He suffered sore for my misdeed.
That I eternal life should gain
He died as Man -- such is man's meed,
Then, when He willed to live again,
He rose as God, in very deed.

To Heaven He passed with mickle bliss, --
Vanquished, the fiends before Him quail,
His banner o'er me floats, I wis,
Whene'er my foes would me assail.
My heart must needs be wholly His,
For He as Friend shall never fail,
Nor asked He more than simply this:
Troth of true Love, for sore Travail.

Thus did my Lord my battle fight,
And for my sake was wounded sore,
To win my love to Death was dight,
What favour might He shew me more?
To pay Him doth surpass my might,
I can but love Him evermore,
And do His Will, and deal aright,
E'en as He taught in lovesome lore.

His Bidding faithful to fulfil
That were, methinks, both fit and kind,
By day and night to work His Will
And bear Him ever in my mind.
But ghostly foes they work me ill
E'en as frail flesh doth make me blind;
I needs must crave His Mercy still,
For better aid I may not find.

None other help is left to me,
I to His Mercy me betake,
Who with His Flesh hath made me free,
And me, poor wretch, His Child would make.
I pray my Lord, of Charitie,
That He this sinner ne'er forsake,
But give me grace from sin to flee
And in His Love my longing slake.

Sweet Jesu, grant me only this,
Take thought of me when hence I wend,
Keep me in steadfast truth, I wis,
From foul fiends shield me and befriend.
Forgive what I have done amiss,
From pains of Hell my soul defend,
And lead me, Lord, unto Thy Bliss
To dwell with Thee, World without end!





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