Page:Poems Rossetti.djvu/477

 The sun and moon grew dark for sympathy,
 And earth cowered quaking underneath the drips
Of Thy slow Blood priceless exceedingly,
 So now a little spare me, and show forth
 Some pity, O my God, some pity of me.
If trouble comes not from the south or north,
 But meted to us by Thy tender hand,
 Let me not in Thine eyes be nothing worth:
Behold me where in agony I stand,
 Behold me no man caring for my soul,
 And take me to Thee in the far-off land,
Shorten the race and lift me to the goal.

WHY?

LORD, if I love Thee and Thou lovest me,
 Why need I any more these toilsome days,
 Why should I not run singing up Thy ways
Straight into heaven, to rest myself with Thee?
What need remains of death-pang yet to be,
 If all my soul is quickened in Thy praise;
 If all my heart loves Thee, what need the amaze,
Struggle and dimness of an agony?—
Bride whom I love, if thou too lovest Me,
 Thou needs must choose My Likeness for thy dower:
  So wilt thou toil in patience, and abide
 Hungering and thirsting for that blessed hour
When I My Likeness shall behold in thee,
  And thou therein shalt waken satisfied.