Jützi Schultheiss
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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