Poems (Bushnell)/The Gain of Loss
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XXII
THE GAIN OF LOSS
THE GAIN OF LOSS
I know a heart that sits upon its throne,
Yet makes its kingdom poorer day by day;
A queen unblest, in that it blesses none,
And far too poor to give itself away.
Yet makes its kingdom poorer day by day;
A queen unblest, in that it blesses none,
And far too poor to give itself away.
And one I know hath all its sweetness given,
A flower left empty by the thankless air,
Yet in the losing finds its only heaven,
Fed by the fountains of divine repair.
A flower left empty by the thankless air,
Yet in the losing finds its only heaven,
Fed by the fountains of divine repair.
Who then shall weigh our wealth against our dearth?
Where is the justice fine of sight and touch?
So light the things we dream have dearest worth,
And those we hold for nothings worth so much.
Where is the justice fine of sight and touch?
So light the things we dream have dearest worth,
And those we hold for nothings worth so much.
How shall I dare, then, for this joy to pray,
Lest when it come it prove a grievous loss?
Or how implore that grief may pass away,
Lest thus I spurn a flower-bearing cross?
Lest when it come it prove a grievous loss?
Or how implore that grief may pass away,
Lest thus I spurn a flower-bearing cross?
O, blessed tears, that cleanse the eyes for morn!
O, costly gains, wherein our all we lose!
O, rose of peace, so white with many a thorn!
Choose thou, my heart, be strong at last, and choose.
O, costly gains, wherein our all we lose!
O, rose of peace, so white with many a thorn!
Choose thou, my heart, be strong at last, and choose.
Not yet, not yet! I cannot ask for pain,
And dare not ask the joy that blindeth me;
I cannot choose; my Father, I would fain
Ask thee for that which looks like joy to thee.
And dare not ask the joy that blindeth me;
I cannot choose; my Father, I would fain
Ask thee for that which looks like joy to thee.