“Bring forth the Spear.”
No Cherub’s heart or hand for us might ache,
No Seraph’s heart of fire had half sufficed:
Thine own were pierced and broken for our sake,
O Jesus Christ.
Therefore we love Thee with our faint good-will,
We crave to love Thee not as heretofore.
To love Thee much, to love Thee more, and still
More and yet more.
“A bundle of myrrh is my Well-beloved unto me.”
Thy Cross cruciferous doth flower in all
And every cross, dear Lord, assigned to us:
Ours lowly-statured crosses; Thine how tall,
Thy Cross cruciferous.
Thy Cross alone life-giving, glorious:
For love of Thine, souls love their own when small,
Easy and light, or great and ponderous.
Since deep calls deep, Lord, hearken when we call;
When cross calls Cross racking and emulous:—
Remember us with him who shared Thy gall,
Thy Cross cruciferous.